Big Veins, Dog Bait
by SaturnineSunshine
Summary: Future CB. "She looked up into his eyes and he smiled. It wasn't the smile of relief or of that innocence they seemed to be emulating for weeks. It was of the familiar lewd scan of her body that made her feel beautiful for the first time in four years."
1. Prologue: Doll Parts

**A/N**: This was just a little idea I had in my head until it festered. I just wrote about it one day and here it is. It wasn't meant to be something drawn out, but depending on its reception, it could very well turn into a multi fic (I've already started on the next chapter.)

**Summary**: The first memory Blaine Waldorf Whitney ever had was of his mother. A beautiful and shrewd dark haired woman with a gold pendant at her throat.

**Disclaimer**: Idea is mine and only Blaine Waldorf Whitney is made up. Thanks goes out to that awesome chick who beta-ed it comewhatmay.x. Title comes from lyrics of Hole's "Doll Parts."

* * *

_I am _  
_Doll parts_  
_Doll mouth_  
_Doll legs_  
_I am_  
_Doll arms_  
_Big veins_  
_Dog bait_  
_  
-"Doll Parts"_  
_-Hole_

The first memory Blaine Waldorf Whitney ever had was of his mother. A beautiful and shrewd dark haired woman with a gold pendant at her throat.

The second memory he ever had was his mother with an ugly bruise on her cheekbone. She was still beautiful. Everyone said so.

Blaine never had qualms about loving his mother more than his biological father. He was aware of the amount of his father's decency. He knew that Richard Whitney had none. No decency and no love for anything except the trophy that his wife was.

Not his actual wife. Or even his son, for that matter.

Blaine was four and had already understood that his biological father wasn't truly his dad. That role was filled by another man.

Always had, always would.

Richard would come home with nothing but the scent of alcohol about him, if he came home at all. It was only in this repugnant man's presence that Blaine ever saw his mother behave subserviently. He remembered the strong woman who sneered at the lesser peasants and doled out punishment where punishment was due. But never in front of her legal husband.

It wasn't until he had matured some, did he realize her uncommon servility was for his benefit. She had protected him by giving up her freedom.

Epiphanies such as these only occurred in his young and unimpressioned mind age four because it was the climax of his exposure to violence.

_"Was he here?"_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"Don't patronize me, Blair. Was. He. Here?"_

_"What do expect me to do? You come home looking like this. Blaine doesn't even have a father."_

_"It doesn't that give you a right to whore around-"_

_"I'm not. But even if you don't want to be his father, at least someone does."_

_"_Someone_ doesn't. Someone wants to humiliate me by getting with my wife into bed."_

_"Because he could never want me if it wasn't for an ulterior motive?"_

_"You shouldn't be wanting him to want you at all. You are _my_ wife."_

_"Well it wasn't by choice, I can assure you."_

The sound of flesh against flesh had been obvious, along with a feminine sound of pain.

_"Where do you get off speaking to me that way? What is wrong with you?"_

_"I can't let you be around our son like this anymore. You're not stable."_

_"Not stable? You invite men around my son and you're telling me that I'm not stable?"_

There was a moment of clarity for Blaine at the sound of his mother's distress. But it didn't mean that he was calm. Emotion welled within him, knowing that he was no longer safe. And neither was his mother.

It was in the midst of all the chaos when the door to his room banged open. He cowered away from the imposing figure only to immediately relax when he recognized the person in the doorway. Though usually associated with tranquility, the sight of the dark haired man at that moment was slightly frightening. Sounds of chaos were bursting from the main room.

Usually donning eccentric suits, it wasn't a mystery why the figure had for moment, looked so unfamiliar. The man's jacket had been discarded and his white and usually pristine shirt was streaked with a gruesome red color to which Blaine couldn't associate to a name. The boy began to shake but the familiar man approached him carefully.

"Hey, kid," he said with his dark, familiar voice, picking Blaine up. There was a gold glint on his wrist that Blaine thought looked far too familiar. And he was suddenly very afraid for his mother.

"Where's Mommy?" he asked.

"You're going to be alright," the man assured him instead. Blaine pressed his face into the man's shirt, surrounded with the comforting scent of something his mother always seemed to roll her eyes at when he came over. It wasn't something that Blaine really understood but all he knew was that whenever he came, Richard was gone. When he came, Blaine's mother was happy.

When Richard came, his mother was nothing but distressed.

"What's happening?" Blaine asked as they reached the door. He was put on his feet as the man crouched beside him.

"Blaine," he said seriously, hand on the child's shoulder. "You're going to have to do something for me. Do you think you can?"

"I want to see Mommy," Blaine said, fidgeting.

"I'm sorry," he said, and it really seemed that way. "But you're going to have to be brave right now. When we walk through that door, you have to close your eyes for me. Do you think you can do that?"

"Will I see my mom?" Blaine asked, trying to do exactly what he was asked and be brave. He watched the older man who looked at him for several beats before answering.

"Yes," he said. "Then you can see your mom."

"Okay," Blaine said. He was picked up again and he clung to the moist shirt, clenching his eyes as tight as he could because he would be able to see his mother again.

"Keep your eyes closed," the dark voice said in a way that made him want to do it. "No matter what."

It was then that he realized the chaos wasn't quite done yet. He heard loud shrieking noises and moans and many feet rushing throughout the penthouse that he resided with his mother and the maid.

"..._Caucasian female, approximately 27 years old, multiple stab wounds to the chest..."_

There was a distinctive sound that he associated with the elevator and the roaring noises faded away.

"Alright," he heard the adult voice say. "You can open your eyes now."

Blaine looked up as he was being placed back on his feet.

"Where's Mommy?"

"I'm sorry, kid," he answered. "But you can't see her just yet."

And then he heard a quiet, "no one can."

Blaine wasn't sure, but he suddenly felt unaccountable rage at being deceived. A word that he heard his mother use a lot.

_Deception_.

Blaine was sure that he understood it now.

"You promised," he said petulantly.

"I'm sorry."

He believed him.

"We're going to Grandma's now," the man added. "Is that alright?"

Blaine nodded and looked at the man before him for the first time. He reached up to touch the mangled shirt that didn't look familiar.

"It's alright," came the answer. "It's not mine."

"Not your what?" Blaine asked in confusion, looking at the messy red substance all over the man that always seemed to look so put together.

"Not my..." he said before stopping himself. "Nevermind."

He watched the man lean his head back against the wall of the elevator, clenching his eyes closed. Blaine wondered if he thought of seeing his mother again. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and the boyrecognized a glistening in the man's dark eyes that his mother sometimes got. The action wasn't foreign on his mother's face, but he had only seen this man as strong and protective. It was strange.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, trying to be very big, like his mother always told him to be. _Mature_ she would say. Like she was afraid she wouldn't be able to teach her son everything that she had to.

"I'll be alright," Blaine heard as the elevator counted down to the lobby.

"Chuck?" Blaine asked hesitantly. Chuck Bass's dark eyes flicked to his face. "Are you going to be my dad now that I don't have one anymore?"

"What makes you think Dick isn't around anymore?" Chuck asked coldly.

"Mommy always said that if you were to take me some place, he wouldn't be around to take care of me anymore."

"Blaine," Chuck said. "Dick never took care of you."

"I know," Blaine shrugged. "Mommy always said that you were my real dad. No matter what the tests say. What does that mean?"

"It means I care about you," Chuck said. "You understand?"

"Yes," Blaine nodded. He always liked Chuck Bass. Chuck Bass wasn't careful. Chuck Bass was strong. He knew this because Grandma always scowled at Chuck. Chuck Bass didn't touch his mother with violence. He learned that word after hearing Chuck speak with his mother.

_Violence_.

Chuck Bass was nice to his mother, no matter what Blaine heard other people say about him. Chuck Bass looked at his mother with tenderness and love.

_Love_.

Something he heard when he knew he wasn't supposed to. When Chuck came over while his mother cried. He knew he wasn't supposed to witness the exchange at all because then his mother would shy away from a man's comforting touch, though Blaine was sure she was fond of Chuck the way her son was.

He was sure that people were only supposed to love each other like that when they were married. That was what Aunt Serena always said to Chuck when Blaine was around. But Blaine didn't mind that Chuck looked at his mother that way. He liked Chuck. And he knew that she did too.

"Will I get to see Mommy soon?" Blaine asked hopefully. Chuck stared at the reflective wall of the elevator and away from the small boy in front of him.

"I hope so."

Then Chuck turned back to the child in front of him and had that clouded look in his eyes that his mother often called _pensive_.

"You have your mother's eyes."

Blaine wasn't really sure what that was supposed to mean. The dinging of the approaching floors greatened and Chuck stood before Blaine again.

"Can you be brave for me again?" Chuck asked.

"Do I have to close my eyes again?" Blaine wondered.

"No," Chuck said. "Not if you don't want to."

"I want to be brave."

"Good kid," Chuck smiled in that way that his mother called _smirking_. Blaine wasn't really sure what the difference was.

Chuck hoisted Blaine up again as the elevator doors parted. Blaine really wanted Chuck to think that he was brave. Chuck was the smartest person he knew. _Suave_ his mother called it with a roll of her eyes and a bunch of other words Blaine couldn't remember, let alone understand. He knew that his mother held the man in high regard and he wanted to be brave.

But he couldn't help clutching to Chuck's discolored shirt as they walked swiftly through the lobby. He wanted to close his eyes again, but couldn't at the sight. Men and women were running through the lobby, covered in the same red that Chuck was.

He felt Chuck's grip tighten on him as his pace picked up. Without bothering for the doorman, Chuck went through the door. The screeching and wailing of sirens increased as blue and red blinded him.

Clinging to the courageous man that he had known since birth, Blaine felt the gold chain wrapped around his savior's wrist. With the same pendant his mother always wore at her throat.


	2. The Engagement

**A/N**: So I'm glad that people are open minded about this. First off, I can confirm with absolute certainty that no, Blair is not dead because then there would be no point to this story. Anyway, that was just a prologue and the rest won't be in Blaine's POV for awhile. For those of you who want to know what happened, sorry, but you'll just have to find out at the end of the fic.

**Summary**: You told me you didn't want to be alone anymore. Alone like no one understands you alone. Alone like you finally admitted to yourself that we're the same. And you came to me. You said you were tired and you slept by my side.

**Disclaimer**: Characters save for the ones that I made up belong to GG. And thanks so much to **comewhatmay.x **who beta-ed and encouraged this fic and made it not as awkward.

* * *

Blood ran across Chuck Bass' knuckles as he lived that proverbial horrific car crash until time moved at its regular pace once more. He looked down to see the shattered shards of glass in his hand that was left of his glass. His wound stung as the alcohol flowed over it, but it all seemed irrelevant now. It all seemed irrelevant because he was now witness to the most gruesome display as Blair Waldorf's engagement to Richard Whitney III was announced for the first time.

Right in front of him.

Chuck felt his eyes burn at the sight, hatred coursing through him, as the man he had never even spoke to before, put his arm around his wife-to-be's frail shoulders. Chuck didn't like the look of it. It wasn't healthy. This whole situation wasn't healthy if his bleeding hand was any evidence.

He looked to the calming presence of his stepmother as Lily handed him a handkerchief. He staunched the bleeding with practiced hand, but could not bring himself to look away from the startling exhibit.

"Did you know?" Chuck asked Lily in a low voice.

"No," Lily replied. "Of course not."

Chuck finally looked over to her kind face, wishing that he hadn't because it seemed to make all of this so much more real. Wishing that this wasn't the end because it sure as hell felt like it. He clenched the cloth painfully before opening his hand again to see his blood clinging at the white fibers.

"Sorry," Chuck uttered, feeling his voice slipping away from his own use. Lily put her hand to his shoulder in what he assumed was supposed to be a comforting action.

That changed.

Lily's hand tightened over his shoulder as they both watched Eleanor Waldorf-Rose approach. Lily and Eleanor barely glanced at each other before the blonde slipped away. Eleanor wasn't there for Lily. That much was obvious.

Eleanor glanced disdainfully down at a littering of tumblers behind him where drinks were being served. He was glad she apparently wasn't privy to his slashed hand.

"How are you, Charles?" Eleanor asked politely, but her tone could cut a person in half.

"I've been better."

There was no point in putting up a front. And in any case, it was always quite evident when Chuck Bass was displeased. He never put any effort into hiding it.

"Trust me when I say it's for the best," Eleanor answered condescendingly.

"For the best?" Chuck questioned. "Is that what she told you?"

"Charles," Eleanor said sharply, "I know how you had some half-baked scheme to trap my daughter in matrimony, but Richard is just a better match for her."

"I love her," Chuck said in a dark oath. Eleanor's laughter mocked him. "Whatever I had planned wasn't a scheme meant to trap your daughter," Chuck answered coldly. "She would have said yes."

"Blair can't please everyone," Eleanor said, "as much as she might want to."

"No," he sneered. "Just you."

"There is no need to be unpleasant," Eleanor sniffed. "This is a celebration."

"A celebration that no one knew about," Chuck countered. "Judging from Blair's face, I expect that she didn't even know you were going to announce her upcoming nuptials."

"It was better for everyone," Eleanor answered.

"You just answered my questioned," Chuck spat with bitter satisfaction, shoving himself away from the table.

"Don't," Eleanor warned after him, making him pause for a moment. "Don't you dare go after her."

"Why?" he asked. "Afraid that she'll change her mind?"

"Nothing will change her mind at this point," Eleanor said slyly. "That I can guarantee."

"And whose fault is that?" Chuck asked, hating how the utter despair leaked through his words. Eleanor's face was nothing but cruel and Chuck remembered how Blair could freeze you to death with that same look.

But she wasn't looking that way right now. Right now she looked like she was being smothered by the man to be her future husband. She leaned in, whispering something in his ear before politely excusing herself. Chuck's eyes watched her the entire way before he realized where she was going.

"Chuck."

He turned to face Serena's innocent eyes that almost seemed as full of melancholy as his did.

Almost.

"Don't do this."

"Everyone seems to be so concerned with stopping my contact with her despite the fact that it always seems to be me who watches _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ with her as she cries."

"You don't know everything," Serena responded.

"Do you even know where she's going right now?" Chuck seethed.

"It's not what you think," Serena protested before he ignored her, turning his back. It didn't matter. It didn't matter what he thought or the anger at her and at him and at Blair all at once.

Chuck watched her sidestep out of the bathroom without any sort of coordination as he leaned at the opposite wall.

"I'll refrain from accusing you of anything."

Blair had obviously lost all sense of observation as she flinched, not spotting him immediately as she usually did. He would have felt insulted if he wasn't so enraged. She subtly wiped the corner of her mouth and he himself wanted to be ill.

"Well I'm glad you're not jumping to any conclusions," she said venomously, obviously catching his nonverbal cues. It seemed that when it mattered the least, she could always read him as well as he could read her.

"What's to jump to?" Chuck asked, straightening his position from leaning on the wall. "I was just standing here and out you came. We both know it's pretty apparent what you were doing in there."

"Why don't you enlighten me?" she asked, more angrily than he deemed necessary for the situation. It was he who should be furious with her. And he was. No matter how much he loved her. It always made the hate more acute.

"I don't think we have to get into the gory details."

"No, go right ahead," Blair said. "Tell me exactly what you were thinking."

"I think that you've got a handle on it."

"Tell me, Chuck," she demanded. "How little you think of me."

"I don't," he contradicted. "I care about you."

"Don't even start," she warned.

"Why else would I be here?" he asked. "I am always the one who's here. Do you see Eleanor here?"

"My mother loves me," Blair said with conviction and he knew that he struck a nerve. Always the same, they always had the same weaknesses. And the apathetic parent always hurt the most.

"Enough to trap you into a marriage you don't want."

"So that's what this is about," Blair said bitterly, trying to pass him on her way back to the party. He held onto her arm, hating how she flinched at his touch. "You just can't get over yourself."

"I know what you were doing in there," he said gently, trying to pull her back to his side. As always.

"Oh, tell me-"

"You were making yourself sick."

Her body had locked up and somewhere in him, he wished he didn't have to be this way with her. But if it was the only to get through to her, he would do what he had to do.

"That's where you're wrong," she said with soft assurance before shaking him off. "Now leave me alone."

Always desperate to keep her by him, his hands found their way to her shoulders, pulling her back. She didn't trying to detach herself this time, but he could practically feel her discomfort.

"I heard you," he confessed. She stepped on his foot, forcimg him to back away, but only to look at him face-to-face.

"Stalk me much?" she sneered in a way that sent a pang through his chest.

"For your own good."

"So you just assume-"

"Because I know you," he countered. "And because I know this marriage isn't what you want..."

He trailed off, never looking away from her face.

"What?" she probed this time and he knew he finally hit the mark this time.

"You're pregnant," he realized. "That's it, isn't it? Why you're marrying some guy your mother set you up with?"

"It's the right thing to do," Blair answered, knowing that there was really no denying it at this point.

"The right thing to do?" Chuck asked laughingly. "Does he know that it's not even his?"

"It could be his," Blair snapped.

"Impossible."

His heart hurt that she was even speaking to him in this manner but he knew from all his indiscretions in the past, it was at least something that he deserved.

"Why not?" Blair asked. "I slept with you."

"Sleeping with," Chuck corrected. "Actually."

"I'm engaged now, Bass," Blair said. "Remember?"

"Do you know what I remember?" Chuck asked sleazily. "I remember the girl who I said I was in love an incomprehensible amount of times coming to me, _begging_ me, when her mother set her up with some freak."

"I never said-"

"_Weird_, I believe, was a direct quote," he said. "You called him weird and confided in me. After God knows how long I've waited to gain your trust, you came to me at four in the morning and begged me to let you into my room so we could sleep in the same bed. You do remember that, don't you sweetheart?"

"Hormones," she said flatly.

"_Hormones_?" he laughed incredulously. "We didn't even do anything. You told me you didn't want to be alone anymore. Alone like no one understands you alone. Alone like you finally admitted to yourself that we're the same. And you came to me. You said you were tired and you slept by my side. And I knew from that moment that I had to marry you. It wasn't even a choice anymore. You were meant to be my wife."

"Stop," she said, backing away from him.

"And I bet you remember the next night, don't you, kitten?" he asked. "That you said you liked that I wasn't all over you even though we knew we both wanted it. You begged me to kiss you. And then you begged for a hell of a lot more than that."

"That was months ago."

"And yet you stayed in my bed with me," he said.

"I was dating Richard," Blair retaliated, hoping it would make him back off. It only made him back her into the wall.

"And yet you were purring my name every night," Chuck said. "After those dates that you hated that your mother commissioned, you would come to me. Confide in me because you could never talk to Serena. They could never understand. People like them can never understand people like us. We're two of a kind."

"I slept with him," Blair struck back. "I cheated on you."

"Really?" he asked. "When was that? That first night you curled up at my side?"

Blair looked away, knowing that she couldn't even fool him into thinking any falsities. Because they both knew that was the only night she slept with Richard. And Chuck would be right, as much as she hated to admit it.

"That's right," he answered his own question condescendingly. "You slept with him because your mother wanted a husband for you. It was expected of you. And then you came right back to me at four in the morning. And you didn't sleep with me that night because what we have is more. Isn't that right?"

"You don't know anything," she whispered devastatingly.

"But you slept with me every night after that," he reminded her. "You screwed me, nailed me, laid with me. And I loved every moment of it."

"I'm pregnant, Chuck," Blair said. "Don't pretend like you're ready for that."

"It was supposed to be us," he seethed in a stage whisper. "Don't you remember? Those nights together? I know you do. I know you were practically aroused at the thought of us sharing vows.

"You don't know that it's yours."

"Neither do you," he countered. "It's more likely that it's mine than his, anyway. Or do I need to graph the statistics for you? One night versus months of every night we spent together?"

"It wouldn't matter either way," Blair said. "Even if it was yours."

"Because of your mother?" Chuck asked. "Why? You'd be getting married either way. And I wanted it first. I wanted you first. I loved you first. And I always will. Why not me?"

"Because my mother picked Richard," Blair said, "and she didn't pick you."

Chuck felt Blair slip out of his grasp as he watched her walk away, her plastic facade pasted falsely over her face.

It was the only time that Chuck Bass ever wanted to be sick. If only to get the taste of revulsion out of his mouth.


	3. The Wedding

**A/N**: Next chapter. So as you can see, the prologue was a shot four years in the future. To be honest, I can't say how many chapters this will take, but it will be a few before we get there. So just enjoy the ride. There will be vast time jumps so we can get there faster.

**Summary**: She had come for him. And a part of him didn't care. He couldn't care that she wasn't going to take off her ring and nothing allotted her to break of her engagement. But this was happening. He needed it. And now he knew that so did she.

**Disclaimer**: Only Blaine (and Richard) are of my own creation. Once again, beta-ed by **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

It only happened once. Even though the rational part of his brain was screaming at him to just let this one go, he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but think after the wedding and the honeymoon when things started to get complacent with her married life, maybe she could get back to him. He knew how her mind worked better than his own. He knew what she was like. And he knew that she would get bored. It was inevitable. Just like them.

He wished it could have been him. He wished it was him. He wished that it was his ring on her finger and his baby in her stomach, even if he still thought the truth about the latter. But if it couldn't be and it just wasn't, then this was the way he would have her. Even if she was married and he couldn't take her to a movie or hold her hand in public, it would have to do. Because he loved her. He didn't care that she was pregnant and that there was a small percentage that it wasn't his. That body was his and as far as he was concerned, so was all the rest.

It was only one time as the diamond glinted on her finger as she sat next to him at his hotel's bar when she was supposed to be at a bachelorette party.

"What are you doing here?" Chuck asked, taking a swig of scotch before looking at her. "Pub crawl not up to par?"

"Chuck," she whispered. She didn't have to be drunk to be vulnerable and he knew for a fact that she wasn't. Not that it was that hard to deduce. "You know I can't do that."

"So what's the point of a bachelorette party if you can't get drunk?" he asked.

"Not everything is about forgetting," she said gently.

"Don't you want to forget?" he asked. "Everything?"

"Every second."

He remembered how he could be her only confidante and it hurt that she was rebuffing him while seemingly loving him in the same breath.

"Including me," he said bitterly, tapping the bar for another drink.

"Don't do that," she said, closing her hand over his. He looked over at her, hating what he was seeing. He could never hate her, or be disgusted with her, but it was the same rush of a feeling with a hint of familiarity like he was going to compare her to his father's Arabians again. Because she was disappointing him again.

"You're so soft now," he said, shaking his head. She retracted, feeling his disdain for her seeping off of him.

"I can't be selfish anymore, Chuck," she said.

"Right," he laughed. "You're so maternal."

"You certainly thought so," she answered. "At your father's funeral. You remember that, don't you?"

And he was looking at her again in admiration as she realized what she had done. She retracted even more, reveling in this whirlwind of events. She would always bet that girl. That cruel, vain, manipulative and perfect girl he fell in love with.

"Why exactly do you think I'm here?" she asked.

"To torture me," Chuck said without a thought about it.

"I hate being soft," she answered. "And being with you brings out the worst in me."

"You're so beautiful," he said fondly and she wished she didn't have hormones that were raging inside of her for him.

"But you see it as the best," she finished with wonder.

"You are," he said, urging his hand to touch her again.

"I'm sorry," Blair said, sliding away from the bar. "You're right. Being here is just torture. For the both of us. I shouldn't have come."

He sat there, stunned at the small amount of time together and the large things that it produced with him.

"I really am sorry."

He heard his own voice as she leaned in and kissed him chastely on the cheek. But as he watched her walk away, he felt the complete opposite. She was so close and so far but he wasn't letting her get away.

Not after that.

She was just around the corner in the deserted hall as his body urged himself to her. As though she felt him she turned sharply on her heel, and accepted his fervid kiss as she gripped his hair, their bodies slamming into the wall.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice suddenly hoarse but she wasn't having any of it as she forced him to kiss her again. His hand went instinctively to her waist before he remembered.

She was pregnant.

And she kept telling him that it wasn't his. His hand ghosted to her flat stomach that in the coming months, wouldn't be in that slender form anymore.

"Blair..."

"Just kiss me," she said and he knew what she had come for. She had come for him. And a part of him didn't care. He couldn't care that she wasn't going to take off her ring and nothing allotted her to break off her engagement. But this was happening. He needed it. And now he knew that so did she.

"This isn't fair," he husked as he trailed down her neck.

"I know," she said back, but her hands becoming more insistent. "I'm sorry."

"We should..."

"No," she said as though she knew what he was thinking. "Here."

Blair would never insist on consummating in a hallway behind a bar. "I want this here."

And he knew that this wasn't the same as it usually was.

"I don't want to be soft anymore," she said, gripping at his collar fretfully. But his hands were still calm and it was driving her insane. "Chuck."

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, too much love bleeding from his words but he couldn't help it.

"Chuck," she said with more urgency. "I am asking you to be rough with me."

_If you wanted to play rough, all you had to do was ask._

She was still the vibrant bitch that he had fell for and his urging body couldn't take it anymore.

"I missed you," he said as an answer and she kissed him roughly. Without even a second's hesitation, his hand on her waist was suddenly a vice as her dress wrinkled under his forceful hand.

"I wish..." Blair started and he knew this could get very emotional. But he just wanted to feel her. He quited her, driving another kiss to her mouth.

"It's okay," he assured her, his hand sliding down her thigh. His adrenaline spiked as he felt her hands at his belt and his own became more fervid as they went to the hem of her skirt.

"Just do it," she breathed hotly as she did away with his belt. He could never let himself forget how impatient she would get. He loved how hot she got for him and this was the moment where he surrendered himself to the passion that had ruled them since they were teenagers.

He ripped her skirt up her thigh as she hiked her leg around his hip. They were very close and very hot and very much behind a public bar. He never liked anyone seeing her in the way that he did but it was just too much. This was too much. She was getting married the following day and he needed this.

So they were very close and very hot and suddenly grinding together in a very familiar primal dance behind a very public bar and he lost himself in her. Her purrs racked through his ears as her hands searched under his shirt.

He felt it coming, the usual and striking sensation as she raked her nails down his back in a cry. Her head was thrown back against the wall as her silken chest heaved as she panted heavily. His hand crept up her neck to weave into her hair, gripping tightly as he drove into her. His teeth teased the skin of her neck, her hair moving at his deep seeded groans.

He hiked her leg farther up his back, feeling his frustration and anger and love and hate and lust pour into her as her nails gripped him so close that he bled.

"I love you," he said like some sort of promise as white flashed before his eyes. It was the only thing he could give. Just this and his declarations of love that always seemed to fall short of a mother's coerced engagement diamond.

They righted themselves and she was looking at him like she had returned his declaration, though from his groaning in his own ears, he doubted it would come clear in any case.

"Even if it isn't mine," he couldn't help but add. She looked at the ground as though in shame before walking past him. "And I want to marry you someday. Even if I'm only the second husband."

"Don't," she said, finding that she really couldn't walk away. "Don't do this."

"So that's all you came for?" he asked. "Because your own husband can't make you weak in the knees. Can't make you swoon? I remember a time where you would cheat on your own boyfriend with me when I just whispered promises of pleasure in your ear at a crowded party."

Her glare was angry and this time she told herself that she really had to walk away. He reached out to pull her back, giving her an impassioned kiss.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he threatened, pulling her hair back so she would actually look at him.

"I'm sorry I can't be enough for you," she said before walking away.

"That's the point," he said angrily after her. "You've always been more than enough. Even when you think you're nothing but baggage to me."

Her eyes were sad and heartbreaking and he knew what this was to her. This was goodbye. She could never be one to cheat on a spouse that had done nothing but just be a match for her. He gave her a baby and now he was giving her a society wedding.

That was done. She had cheated on him. And to Chuck, it did nothing but encourage him.

Really, Blair Waldorf should have known better.

The wedding was beautiful. He hated it. He hated how striking she looked in a gown that she would never wear again and wouldn't even fit her in a couple of months. He hated proclaiming that what was growing in her womb had to be his, but that niggling thought in the back of his brain that told him differently. That Iago within him that told him he was wrong. She was marrying the father of her child. And there was nothing wrong with that no matter how much Chuck wanted to get drunk and stand on a table and proclaim what a cheating, lying whore Blair Waldorf Hyphenation Whatever was. And how much he loved her.

Instead, he just sat back and listened to the toasts that their best friends were forced to say about how Richard and Blair's love was like destiny. They were perfect for each other. They fit like a gentle stream flowed into a giving fjord.

That last one was from Serena and Chuck wondered if she even know what a fjord was. He sat back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose while everyone else had a champagne toast. Serena elbowed him sharply in the ribs but he just gave her a glare.

"Mom said she was looking at the records today," Serena said lightly as everyone danced. Chuck wondered why he was even invited. He knew that he and Blair liked to torture each other, but they were way past that. They were past high school games that just weren't funny when he wanted to marry her.

"Is that so," Chuck asked, motioning for another drink.

"Are you even listening?"

"No," Chuck answered.

"You can't do it," Serena said. "She's married now."

"Well if Lily was looking where I spent my money, then you know that I already have."

"Chuck," Serena said as Chuck stood up from the table to weave through the crowd. "It's not right."

Chuck Bass never gave a care to what was moral or ethical or right. It was the exact same reason he came across the new bride who was finally the center of attention.

"May I cut in?"

It sounded like a question and although her husband may have been completely oblivious, Blair wasn't. And she knew it wasn't a question. She knew that Chuck had more than his share of Old Fashioned's and when he was like that, he had the propensity to do something she would regret. Like standing on a table and calling her a lying, cheating whore. Because he loved her.

She let Chuck take her hand, interlacing their fingers before pulling her onto the dance floor. They were silent as they swayed to the music. He put his face to her neck, nuzzling the lock of hair that had fallen from her chignon.

"Did you wear your hear like that just to torture me?" he asked throatily.

"Please don't do this here," she said.

"You invited me," he said. "Remember?"

He pulled back to look into her eyes that seemed to be misting over.

"I wish things could have been different."

"Yeah, well you can't get pregnant twice at the same time," he said. "No one was really bothering for protection last night impulsively."

"Please stop," she said.

"What?" he asked. "You mean you didn't tell your husband how you let me screw you up against the wall of a bar where just anyone could walk in? Strange."

"Is that why you're here?" she asked. "To ruin everything? Go ahead and tell him."

"Because he's more likely to believe you than me, right?" Chuck grinned. "Me who bangs anything in his field of vision. Well, you're right. I sure as hell banged you last night."

"Chuck," Blair finally said sharply.

"I got you something," he said with soft fondness lacing his voice.

"What?" she asked, confused at his quick change of pace.

"I think you'll like it," he mused. "You didn't even have to put it on hold."

"Considering this is a wedding, I'm pleased that you so selflessly thought to get me a gift."

"No," he said. "This is just for you. You ran away from me so fast last night I didn't get a chance to give it to you."

"Bribing me, Bass?" Blair asked.

"Only for you," he answered. His arm curled more securely around her waist so there was no space between them. It wasn't polite and it had no propriety but she let herself not care, if only for tonight. "Do you want to see it?"

"I..." Blair said and she knew he had to be drinking at least a little to be this close to her. Not that he was ever entirely sober. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Chuck replied, shrugging it off. "It will be here waiting for you when you get back."

"So did you get me an actual wedding present?" she asked coyly.

"I spent a lot of money at Tiffany's," he affirmed. She couldn't help but smile demurely.

"I meant what I said, Waldorf," he said, always refusing to call her by her legal name. "I love you."

"I meant things I said last night too," Blair said. "I just can't mean them here."

"What did you say?" he asked bitterly.

"You were groaning too loudly to hear, I suppose," Blair said offhandedly. He smiled, putting his mouth politely enough to her ear.

"That you love me?"

"The song's over," Blair said shortly, pulling out of his too friendly embrace. The song had ended a long while ago but they still had danced. Neither of them had noticed.

"I'm sure I'll see you after the honeymoon," Chuck said coldly. Blair tried to bite back her tears as she turned away from him to go back to her husband. She felt his eyes on her the entire way. Richard was staring at her and she felt a strange flurry of stomach that made her skin turn cold. She didn't know where it came from.

"He seems fond of you."

"We're just friends."

"That's not what you told me," he replied.

"And I told you that it's over," Blair said. "It's over."

"I suppose that's why he sent a package to our house today."

"He sent something?" Blair couldn't help but ask. Richard's eyes darkened and she knew that she didn't know the man she married at all.

"It was small," he said. "Don't get your hopes up."

It was returning from the honeymoon that she actually found herself opening it. It came in a blue box and she knew that the small pendant cost as much as Chuck proudly boasted it did. The round diamonds sparkled prettily in platinum at her on the silver chain.

She knew that he spared no expense.

Richard's footsteps echoed around the corner and she shoved the drawer of her jewelery box closed where he would never see it.


	4. The Infinity

**A/N**: So this chapter gets a little emotional. Just a heads up. Or so my self entitled mind likes to think. Sorry I haven't updated in awhile but I just haven't gotten around to writing. Its coming back, though.

**Summary**: She had been hesitant to reach out to him for the very reason that the last time they had seen each other, the preceding night they had wild sex against the wall of a bar and after giving her one of the most expensive gifts she had ever received, never spoke to him again.

**Disclaimer**: Characters belong to GG. Beta **comewhatmay.x **said she really liked this chapter so just go with it. You can find Blair's Infinity pendant at http: / www . tiffany . com / Shopping / Item . aspx?from Grid = 1 & sku = 25655435 & mcat = & cid = & search _ params = s + 1 – p + 1 – c + - r + - x + - n + 6 -ri + -ni + 0 – t + infinity & search =1. Of course. Just remove the spaces.

* * *

Her slight stomach protruded beneath her fingers and as she looked at her expanding figure in the mirror, she knew that she shouldn't be wearing that necklace. It was wrong. It wasn't from her husband. It was expensive like it would be given to her by a lover. Except she didn't have a lover. She had a husband. A husband who barely spent time in the house as it was. It wasn't any comfort to her knowing that he didn't have any mistresses. He just didn't like being home. She couldn't blame him. She didn't like being in a house with someone that she didn't love either.

The only consolation she had were shiny diamonds that would never lose shape and never disappoint her. The only company she had was the child within her that would move when they were alone.

It was enough.

For now, it was enough.

"You're wearing that again?"

Blair started, seeing Richard's sudden appearance in her mirror.

"You're home," Blair said, her hand covering the connection she had to the man who she had last seen at a wedding.

"It is my house."

His voice didn't portray venom or distaste. It was just a dull statement of facts.

"Forgive my astonishment."

Blair's voice, however, was the opposite.

"But of the six months that I've been pregnant, you've seemed to be in our home cumulatively only one of them."

She could tell it was of no consequence as she rose from her chair to see that his eyes were still on the silver pendant at her throat.

"You wear it a lot."

"It was a gift," she reminded him gently, feeling strangely as though she were treading on ice. Ice that was cracking beneath her every footfall and it would surely break. But she didn't know why.

"Coincidentally a gift from the same guy that's downstairs," Richard remarked.

"What?" Blair asked in surprise.

"You didn't know?" Richard asked doubtfully.

"I didn't know," Blair repeated truthfully. She had been hesitant to reach out to him for the very reason that the last time they had seen each other, the preceding night they had wild sex against the wall of a bar and after giving her one of the most expensive gifts she had ever received, never spoke to him again.

"We're not exactly close."

"Doesn't seem that way to me," Richard remarked. "He seems comfortable enough to give you diamonds from Tiffany and dropping by unannounced."

"This is the first time this has ever happened," Blair said. "And you haven't exactly been making yourself available."

"Do you want to pretend that this is nothing but a shotgun wedding?" Richard asked. There was nothing provoking about his statement, but she couldn't help but feel a chill go up her spine as she placed a hand protectively over her stomach.

"I'm going to greet our guest," Blair said uncomfortably. "He's been waiting long enough."

"Of course."

He didn't exactly seem pleased about it. Then again, he didn't seem displeased either.

With difficulty, she made her way down the elegant staircase, feeling Richard's presence at her back. Observing the artwork on the walls, Chuck Bass had his back turned to the both of them, his stance as strong and sturdy as ever. Hearing the approach of the married couple, he turned with a ready smirk on his face.

He and Richard exchanged cordial handshakes as Blair stood patiently in the background. Chuck turned, his eyes taking in her appearance that he hadn't seen in many months and she had the strong urge to hide her girth behind a column.

Instead, Chuck made his way towards her, kissing her politely on both cheeks, his hands holding Blair by her upper arms more than necessary. He leaned away to look at the glittering pendant at her throat.

"Stunning," he commented with satisfaction as though he had known all along.

"We were just talking about that, actually," Richard cut in, causing Chuck's hands to fall away from Blair. "Quite an exquisite gift."

"Emphasis on the word gift," Blair rolled her eyes. "It's not against the law that I wear it."

"I'm glad," Chuck answered Richard's animosity. "I spent many hours picking it out."

"You spent many hours picking out a wedding gift?" Richard asked dubiously.

"For someone that I've known my entire life," Chuck answered, "it was worth it." He didn't seem affronted or even intimidated by Richard but Blair couldn't help but feel as though that was a mistake.

"It doesn't look cheap," Richard commented again.

"It's just a necklace," Chuck answered with as much indifference as was warranted. "Like you said. Just a wedding present."

"Then why was it sent to the house?" Richard asked curiously.

"I didn't want my esteem to get mixed with the lowly peasants'," Chuck said as though he had an answer prepared. Blair smiled discreetly but it didn't escape Richard's attention.

"Blair said it wasn't a wedding present at all," Richard continued. "It looks well thought out."

Chuck's eyes started to narrow dangerously and she didn't want this subject to come up in her own house. She knew how Chuck could get when he felt like he was being challenged. Or that his territory was being threatened.

"I bought a gift for someone that I've known practically since birth," Chuck said. "Or are you going to start interrogating me when I buy Nathaniel glasswear from a head shop?"

Blair knew that it really wasn't the same thing and that she would feel offended if Chuck went around buying gifts for Serena. Jewelry that cost as much as he boasted. Dresses that matched his bow ties. Then again, she knew Chuck. And she knew that he was aware that it wasn't the same thing either.

"I don't want to argue right now," Blair said in a bored tone that she knew would calm Chuck from making a mistake.

Richard, however, was not the same.

"We're not arguing," he said calmly. "We're just having a conversation about the fact that some man bought my wife an infinity symbol. That must mean something."

"Infinity symbol?" Chuck repeated with disdain. "It looked like a figure eight to me. It was just to congratulate her on her nuptials."

"It looks like an infinity symbol to me," Richard said quietly. And Blair took a step back merely out of instinct. Chuck's eyes were on her again and he noticed the exchange.

"And it seems that I've worn out my welcome."

The twisted conversation that this had turned into was forcing him out, a person that she hadn't seen in so long and wished that she didn't care so much about. She could feel his eyes on her at his last statement.

"You look good, Waldorf."

All the air left Blair's body as the elevator doors obscured his retreat.

"Why is he still calling you that?"

Blair was ripped from the fading gaze of Chuck Bass back to reality with her very real husband. She turned to look at him.

"What?"

"He's calling you by your maiden name."

"We never discussed whether I'd be changing it or not," Blair said.

"I don't want any child of mine with a hyphenated name," Richard said. "I don't like it."

"It's a boy," Blair said. "Which I've told you before."

"And I especially don't like strange men walking into my house at all hours."

"He's not a stranger," Blair protested. "I've known him all my life."

"Well I haven't."

Before she could even open her mouth for another argument, she was on the floor, holding her stomach protectively to feel that her child was still thriving. She put her hand to her face where his back hand had caught her off guard and thrown her to the ground.

Richard wasn't even looking at her.

"I don't like arguments, Blair," Richard said. "And I don't like him. He looks at you too familiarly."

"Maybe because we're familiar," Blair seethed, not able to pick herself up.

"You'll be changing your name," Richard said. "We won't have this conversation again."

She watched him walk up the stairs as though she weren't cowering on the floor, tasting blood at the back of her mouth. Steps were quiet on the tile floor and Blair couldn't help but flinch. But it was only Eloise, the employed maid who helped her to her feet.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitney."

It was a done deal.

* * *

Chuck was making himself a drink when he heard feminine footsteps on the floor. Of course he looked with apprehensive excitement only to find himself disappointed that it wasn't her.

"Hi, Chuck."

It was Serena.

"Hey, sis," Chuck said, offering her the bottle of scotch. She declined with a curt shake of her head.

"Where've you been?" she asked.

"Around."

"Have you seen Blair today?"

Serena watched his stoic stance tremble visibly.

"She doesn't know you just got back."

"She doesn't know that I left," Chuck answered. "She just thinks..."

"That you hate her?" Serena asked. "I doubt that."

"What makes you so sure?" Chuck asked. "She kicked me out of her house."

"Did she really?" Serena asked. "Or was it someone else?"

Chuck shrugged noncommittally and Serena sighed in frustration.

"She was wearing the necklace."

"That's exactly what I mean, Chuck," Serena said. "You can't go around giving 1500 dollar necklaces to other men's wives."

"Not other men," Chuck corrected. "Just her."

"She's married now," Serena said. "It's not right."

"She is married now," Chuck agreed. "Just to the wrong person."

"Please don't ruin this for her."

"Ruin, what, exactly?" Chuck asked. "Her complete misery? A loveless marriage? The fact that it's a pointless loveless marriage because it might not even be his?"

"Stop, Chuck," Serena warned. "You can't go around talking like that. And I don't even want to hear it."

"Then what are you even doing here?" Chuck asked. "Because believe me, it wasn't to share our tastes on the finery of good whiskey."

"I came here to make sure..."

"To make sure that I didn't seduce her away from a husband she hates?" Chuck sneered. "Not yet. But I'm getting there."

"And how can you possibly know the intricate way that Blair thinks?" Serena asked. "How can you know who she does and doesn't love?"

"I know," Chuck said.

"You can't."

"I know she loves me."

* * *

Used to insomnia that he had developed at an early age, Chuck rarely slept. He remembered the confusion flaked with relief when he could find some sort of peace. It was around the time when he woke up in a limo to find that he best friend's very recent ex wasn't there anymore. It was the first night of decent rest he had gotten since he could remember. The next night he slept even better. It continued like that until mid December when the same brunette beauty left him wanting in the middle of the dance floor. He hadn't found that same sort of peace until the following year when he finally found the will in him to tell her three words she had been dying to hear for months. With her by his side, he was able to sleep.

So it came as no surprise to him when he could sleep the night before the wedding. Even if it was a sleep infiltrated with dreams of pain and discontent.

He hadn't slept since. It was that sole fact that led Chuck Bass to believe that he was hallucinating when he saw the recent Mrs. Whitney step into his foyer. Even though she only had a few months to go, she looked as stunning as ever. With his necklace around her neck.

"Hi."

Her voice was hoarse and he knew that she had been crying. He was immediately at her side and led her to the couch. Her hands were shaking and he wanted to console her. But he couldn't do that anymore. So much that it physically pained him.

"What happened?"

No lights illuminated the house for the lateness of the hour but he could tell that there was something about her shadowed face that just wasn't right as she refused to answer him.

"I never meant to cause trouble for you," he finally said, letting his hand caress her collarbone with jewels resting across it.

"It wasn't you," Blair finally spoke up, her voice cracking. "It was me. I should have known better."

"I didn't mean..." he started. "I lied."

"About what?"

He was still gently stroking the chain around her neck.

"Why do you think I got it for you?" he asked. "Because we're infinite."

Blair sighed and he dropped his hand.

"God," she sniffed. "I'm so..."

"You're beautiful," he encouraged, knowing exactly what acidic thoughts went searing through her brain. He didn't condone it.

"I'm huge," she said coarsely. "It's no wonder he-"

Blair cut herself off immediately and Chuck felt that impending doom that cut through him like a razor.

"What did he do?" Chuck asked angrily.

"I shouldn't be here," Blair said. "I was stupid to think-"

She was on her feet before Chuck could stop her. It wasn't difficult to restrain her from leaving but he didn't want to. He didn't want her to go back to her husband so willingly. A husband that had wronged her in some way.

"To think that you could trust me?"

"We will never be safe," Blair said. "You said so yourself."

"We were kids, Blair," Chuck answered. "It's different now. You know that I can take care of you."

"You're right," she said. "Things are different. I can't be selfish anymore. I'm going to be a mother."

"You don't feel safe with me," he stated, "but you don't feel safe with him either. You wouldn't be here otherwise."

"I never said I didn't feel safe with you," Blair said. "I've never felt more... But it's dangerous to be here. If he knew..."

She realized that Chuck wasn't trying to capture her eyes but instead, studying her mouth intently as she spoke. His hand captured her chin and she felt his body stiffen with anger.

"He did that to you."

It wasn't a question but a demand of anger. Blair put her hand to her mouth, realizing that Richard had split her lower lip. She had been hoping just for a subtle bruise.

"It was my fault," Blair said. "I shouldn't have-"

"There is no excuse for it," Chuck snarled. "Not for anything I've done and certainly nothing you've done."

"You can't know that."

"You're not seriously considering going back to him," Chuck said, aghast at knowing at all.

"He's my husband."

"You're not going back to him," Chuck uttered and Blair knew there was no way that he was letting her out of here. His arms circled her and she let herself take solace in the one person that she knew she couldn't.

"I've never felt so weak," Blair said in anguish.

"You're not," he promised. "You're not weak. You're anything but weak."

"I don't know how I got here," she said before she realized she was being ushered into his bedroom. She sat stiffly, feeling his eyes on her.

"You're alright," he said, his hand on her back of her neck. She wished it didn't bring up such vivid memories of things that couldn't be anymore. She turned and he was much closer than she knew was proper.

"I..." she practically choked. "I can't."

"I know."

He almost sounded disappointed but she couldn't imagine why. Couldn't imagine why he would want her this way or even how.

"Just stay here," Chuck said.

"Alright," Blair said uneasily, knowing it was the exact wrong thing to say. "Alright."

She couldn't remember the last time she had fallen asleep next to someone. Her husband who actually had the right was barely home and she missed the presence of a warm body next to hers. It was as she drifted off to sleep did she realize the truth. She just missed Chuck next to her.

Sunlight cut sharply through the drapes as Chuck sat up, shielding his eyes as midnight melted into morning. He knew he had to close them properly so as not to wake her. But looking around him so early in the morning he knew she wasn't there. The bed was empty but not exactly cold. His heart hurt at the fact that he knew she had gone back to her husband.

It was only three months later at the news that she had gone into labor did he see her again.


	5. The Maternity Ward

**A/N**: I know I haven't been submitting but that means that I haven't been writing so it sucks for the both of us. Anyway, I really didn't expect for this fic to drag on like this but I hope you're enjoying the ride nevertheless. Totally forgot to post this last night. To those of you who have encouraged me to keep submitting, thanks, because if it weren't for you, this wouldn't be out this quickly.

**Summary**: "I had entertained the idea that she might be better off without me," Chuck considered. "But then you walked in and reminded me of how selfish I am. I think I'm going to do the thing that I love most. The wrong thing."

**Disclaimer**: None is mine. Beta is **comewhatmay.x **who it turns out, does actually like reading my stuffy. Happiness for me. I know I already did this but Blair's getting something else and you can find it, of course, at Tiffany. Just remove the spaces. http:/ www . tiffany . com / Shopping / item . aspx ? sku = GRP02666 & cid = 287465 & search _ params = s + 5 - p + 1 - c + 287465 - r + - x + - n + 6 - ri + - n i + 1 - t & mcat =148204

* * *

A gasp and a pinch and then it was over. Maybe a little more dramatic and a lot more painful than that but it was over. Her son was no longer moving in her womb anymore and all she felt was the sweet release of an epidural and she drifted into unconsciousness. She just didn't know why that was what worried her so much. She was afraid to wake up. Like the nine months she had gone through and alienating the one person that meant everything to her would have been in vain.

"Her heart rate is spiking-"

"No, she's alright."

And she was feeling less groggy and more alert because that last voice meant something. It meant that he didn't hate her.

Blair opened her eyes slowly to see that she hadn't been hallucinating at all.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

Chuck Bass smirked easily as though he had actually seen her in the last few months.

"I have a way with nurses."

"That does not surprise me," Blair answered, hating the horrible gut wrenching feeling that shouldn't be plaguing her anymore. It was this simple sentence that could so easily indulge her self loathing tendencies about how everything had turned out.

Chuck saw the flicker of discontent cross her features as she attempted to sit herself up right, still connected to the IV.

"Wait," he said, getting up from his seat to aide her.

"I don't need help," she said crossly.

"Sure you do, Waldorf," he remarked, ignoring her completely. She was sitting upright, but still looking at him strangely.

"You shouldn't be calling me that anymore," she said begrudgingly.

"You'll never be anyone else to me," he answered unrepentantly. He was looking at her with that harsh stare of his and she felt his hand still wrapped around her upper arm, keeping her steady.

"Thanks."

He looked down, not realizing that they were still touching. If only because it felt so right. He released her.

"Right."

But he wasn't sure if that was what she was thanking him for.

"What are you doing here?" Blair finally asked.

"I came as soon as I heard," he offered. "I didn't know if..."

He was looking at her with a vulnerability that she couldn't place.

"I'm glad you're here," she said. "I didn't want to be alone."

"You're not," he answered.

"Richard's not here," Blair mused, not sure why she even brought it up. His fists were clenched and she found herself covering them with her own. He looked up in surprise, taking her in.

"You're not alone, Blair," he said pointedly.

"Not anymore at least," Blair said, relaxing back against the headboard.

"What's his name?"

Blair smiled slightly. "I haven't settled on one."

"Well you can't name him Audrey," Chuck smirked.

"Maybe I'll have to settle on Carey," Blair smiled.

"It's not the 50's anymore. That will not end up well."

"I have a few ideas," Blair said. "Not that it will matter to Richard."

"If you need any help," Chuck offered, "you know where I'll be. I've always been partial to Kennedy."

"Kennedy?" Blair repeated articulately. "Like the president?"

"Like Joe," Chuck shrugged.

"Chuck."

But she was laughing and he liked that he could still make that happen.

"I am not naming my son after a boozing, womanizing millionaire."

"Why not?" Chuck asked. "You fell in love with one."

That was when her room grew quiet and he stared down at his loafers. He never really meant to be that candid with her. He liked the way he was blunt and crass, but whenever he was with her, he spoke without thinking. He said erotic and inappropriate things. It was also how he ended up hurting her so much.

"That's not fair," Blair said. "You're a billionaire."

He looked up in surprise at her humor and knew something terrible must have happened between the time she left his bed and now because she was being so kind with him. He must have done something terrible.

"Did Serena come?" Blair asked. "Or even my mother?"

"Serena's here," Chuck said, neglecting to mention that Eleanor had not yet decided to grace them with her presence.

"Does she even have an excuse?"

"For being here?" Chuck asked, feigning innocence.

"My mother," Blair said. "Does she even have an excuse for not being here? Some disaster at the atelier? Or just another Saturday night."

"I guess I will just have to be enough to satiate you," he smirked but he knew it was weak because she was staring off in the other direction.

"She loves Dorota's daughter more than me," Blair said coolly, not looking back at him.

"Blair," Chuck said so she would look back at him.

"You of all people should know not to try and convince me of my mother's maternal instinct," Blair sneered.

"No," Chuck said. "But you love Dorota's daughter too."

Blair shook her head. "You're horrible."

"It's why you love me."

Her body really had tensed up and it worried him. He knew that he had a tendency to go too far but it wasn't anything that he could help. She never was.

"I actually came here to give you something," Chuck said. But her eyes were cool now and he knew that his time with her was wasting away.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she responded.

"You don't even know what it is."

"I think it's better that way," she replied. "I think you should leave."

"What?" Chuck asked, not able to help his almost offended tone.

"Maybe you should just send in Serena."

She wasn't looking at him anymore and he rose to his feet, knowing that she was ending the conversation.

"When I asked for you," Chuck started before they left, "they said they didn't have anyone in the maternity ward under the name Waldorf."

"That's because they don't," Blair replied succinctly.

"You always told me that since your father never had any sons, you wanted to further the Waldorf line."

"So?"

"Why did you take his name?" Chuck asked, hating knowing that if they had ever gotten married she would have insisted on the hyphenation of Waldorf-Bass."

"I don't know what you're trying to insinuate."

"I'm not insinuating anything," Chuck said. "I'm telling you I thought you wouldn't demolish your lineage. And I'm really wondering if we're not going to talk about this."

"Talk about what?"

She batted her eyelashes and her innocent act sometimes sickened him. How she could bury so many things below the surface. How she could turn so easily away from him. As if it was so easy for her to forget that she loved him. He was reminded of it every day.

"How about three months ago when you came into my penthouse at all hours of the night with a split lip?"

"That didn't happen," Blair said. "And you should just forget about it."

"I thought you were leaving him."

"And why would I do that?" she asked cruelly.

"Blair," he said seriously. "You are in an abusive relationship. You can't—I will not let you continue on like this."

"I can't be in an abusive relationship when I'm not even in a relationship," Blair said. "The only connection we have to each other, really, is the last name."

"Which you took," he said pointedly.

"It was a stipulation."

"A stipulation," he repeated incredulously. "If it were me, you would have fought tooth and nail to keep your last name."

"You also respect me," Blair said. "And that's the difference. Or at least it was."

"I've always respected you," he said. "And I always will. But this-"

"Is none of your concern," Blair said. "Richard isn't abusive. He's just violent."

"Forgive me if I fail to comprehend the difference," Chuck sneered.

"It doesn't mean anything," Blair said. "It's just how we communicate."

"_Communicate_?" Chuck demanded. "He communicates with his fist to your face-"

"Serena," Blair said brightly and Chuck broke off, knowing the exact truth. Serena didn't know the things that he did. No one did.

"I guess I'll see you around, Mrs. Whitney," Chuck said snidely before exiting the room so Serena couldn't trap him.

"Blair," Serena sighed, sitting beside her best friend.

"Don't, Serena," Blair warned. "Just don't."

* * *

"You went to the hospital today."

Chuck looked up from his empty bottle, looking inside the nozzle to see if there was anything left.

"You powers of observation never cease to amaze me."

There wasn't.

"Drunk again?" Serena asked.

"I don't get drunk," he said with distaste. "I just drink. There's a difference. And for your information, no. I've been deciding whether to return something or not."

Serena's eyes fell to the coffee table to see a familiar blue box. Not that she had ever been gifted jewelry as extravagant and as often as Chuck did for her married best friend, but she knew what it was nonetheless.

"Chuck, no."

"Ugh," Chuck said in disgust, blocking Serena's view of the gift. "I had no idea that I had called for the Morality Police so early in the day."

"It's four in the afternoon."

Chuck eyed her with precision. "If you're going to come over here every time I seem to be doing something worthy of being scolded, you might as well move in. Though on second thought, I would rather you didn't. There would be hair products as far as the eye can see."

"She's married."

"I had in fact been made aware of that," Chuck nodded. "If you recall, I attended the wedding. You've warned me of this all before."

"But you don't seem to be getting it," Serena said.

"I had entertained the idea that she might be better off without me," Chuck considered. "But then you walked in and reminded me of how selfish I am. I think I'm going to do the thing that I love most. The wrong thing."

"You know the right thing to do and you're just going to go and do the opposite."

"Pretty much," Chuck shrugged, picking up the case. "Let it be a consolation that I wouldn't have made this decision if it wasn't for your helpful little talk."

"I know you hate Richard, Chuck," Serena said as he made his way towards the exit. "But did you ever consider that the only reason you hate him is because he has what you never can?"

Maybe it was going slightly too far because Chuck was looking at her at that murderous way that would deter everyone but Blair.

"You have no idea what my problems with Richard are," Chuck sneered. "Otherwise you wouldn't be so quick to stop me."

* * *

There was a quiet tranquility to it and Blair was glad to be home. As much of a home this was, it seemed that way only when her husband wasn't there. With only the maid as a circle of protection, she finally felt at home in a penthouse that seemed to be filled with nothing but fear, even when her husband wasn't there. It wasn't any place for someone to grow up. It wasn't any place for her son to grow up. But having no other options, it was secure. She was safe even if it didn't feel that way. For now.

"Mrs. Blair?"

Blair looked away from the face of her slumbering child as Eloise cautiously opened the door.

"Yes?"

"There's... someone here to see you."

Instantly her body was awake and alert and she had never felt more disgusting. She knew exactly who was there to see her. Even though she didn't want to condone it, she couldn't help herself. As always.

Blair would have gone down to greet him but just like the smirking 16 year old boy, he waited for no maid. With his disregard for any authority that tried to regulate him, he had ignored Eloise's orders to wait downstairs and he was at the doorway, leaning with his usual indifference. She hated how she loved it.

"I don't remember giving you permission to come up here," Blair chastised. There was a flurry of relief in Chuck's chest as he understood that she wasn't reacting towards him like she had in the hospital.

"Since when have I ever needed your permission?" he asked without a care in the world.

"You shouldn't be here."

What she had said in the hospital still rang true as she shut the door to her son's room, walking down the hall and away from Chuck.

"He's not here," Chuck said.

"I know," Blair answered, but seemingly still trying to run from him. And he always had the instinct to chase. Since the very beginning.

"Blair," Chuck said in annoyance that she was still pulling this with him. "Wait."

He caught her arm but it didn't bar her travel any. She tried to pull away from him.

"What are you-"

"You shouldn't have to see me like this."

Chuck looked down at her in confusion. There was a strike of fear in his heart, hating the thought that Richard actually had been here and something terrible had happened. But all he saw was Blair.

She had successfully pulled from his grip and stood standoffishly against the wall, seeming to be just gauging his reaction when he didn't know what he was supposed to be reacting to. Then he got it.

"Blair," he smiled slightly.

"Like I said," she answered, pushing past him. "You should go."

"You know I don't think of you like that."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Blair said breezily before he stopped her.

"You're never anything other than beautiful to me."

"I just gave birth," she reminded him.

"Your point."

"I think you should go."

"Until when?" he asked. "When you find a crash diet suitable enough for your needs?"

Even after everything, her steely gaze was a force to be reckoned with.

"Can I barter my way into staying here if I said I had something for you?" Chuck asked. "You never gave me the time to give it to you in the hospital."

"That's not fair," she said sullenly.

"It's not fair that you're as greedy, vain, and self aware as I am?" he asked. "No. I suppose it's not."

Blair sighed. "Come on."

Chuck didn't question it, just followed her as she opened the door he had come in seeing her before. He knew suddenly why she had closed it from his eyes. He saw Blair Waldorf's son sleeping soundly as he approached. He looked to Blair who nodded encouragingly. And he knew why she was afraid of him coming. They were in danger of becoming a family. Especially when she had a husband who was so set on not being one.

Chuck walked closer and closer until he could see the boy with dark hair and presumable dark eyes if they were open. Chuck smirked.

"He looks like you," he commented.

Blair smiled. "I know."

"He doesn't look like..."

"Chuck," Blair breathed so he would look at her. "He's not yours."

Chuck went back to looking. "I know. He's all you, Waldorf."

He felt her presence at his side and for a moment, he could pretend that she was his wife. This was his house and it would be their bed that he could stay in forever.

"What's his name?"

He looked back at her when she didn't answer to find that she was smiling.

"Blaine," she finally said.

"Blaine," Chuck repeated but Blair knew he liked it. "You're either as self absorbed as I am or just watched _Pretty in Pink_ before you named him."

"A little bit of both," Blair said admittedly.

"I like it."

"I know."

"Does he?" Chuck asked tentatively, knowing that this was a subject that caused Blair to kick him out of her room in the maternity ward.

"He hasn't been here," Blair said. "I named him on my own."

Chuck wanted to comfort her. Wanted to take her in his arms and make her his own wife. But there was only one way that he was aware to do that. He only consoled Blair in one way and he was sure that she wasn't ready for that.

Yet.

"Blaine Waldorf Whitney."

"So you hyphenated his name," Chuck said, knowing that wasn't what she did.

"Waldorf is his middle name," Blair said. "I have to continue the blood line. That's right, isn't it?"

"No," Chuck answered. "It's not."

"What is your fixation with hyphenation?" Blair asked in as much exasperation she was allotted so Blaine wouldn't wake.

"He's wounding you," Chuck said. "He's defiling you and you're just letting it happen."

"Maybe you shouldn't come around here anymore," Blair said in frustration.

"Maybe you'll have to make me," Chuck snorted. Blair looked at him in almost surprise at his brazen retort before she was even more surprised as he took a box from behind his back that was reminiscent of 17th birthday parties.

"I told you I had something for you," he said and he was starting to look like that 16 year old boy that she had fallen in love with. She walked hesitantly towards the chair, feeling his presence always behind her, always there. No matter how many times he would pull out a box for her, her heart always stopped, always shuddered at the anticipation that he was choosing something specifically for her.

In the perfect velvet nestled a gold charm with a scene of something that Chuck shouldn't be gifting to her inscribed in it.

"It's and Aphrodite and Ares Olympian charm," he told her as she caressed the necklace's surface. "Not as much as the Infinity charm, but I saw it and I thought of you."

Blair knew that this was his subtle way of reminding her of how well off he was. How he could provide for her. At least, as subtle as Chuck Bass could be when it came to those matters.

"Aphrodite and Ares," he said again. "The goddess of love and the god of war..."

"I remember the story," Blair smiled faintly. She picked the charm from the case to examine it further when her fingers came in contact with what was inscribed on the back. she flipped it over and felt Chuck faintly react next to her.

"It's double sided," he offered as she scowled at him.

"You know I can't accept this now," she told him roughly.

"Why not?"

"Chuck," Blair told him, showing him the back. "I can't accept this."

The inscription on the back wasn't difficult to interpret.

_Love_.

"If he saw me wearing this-"

"He wouldn't have to know it came from me," Chuck said. "Say you bought it for yourself. You said you know the myth."

"I just bought a necklace with two lovers on the front for myself," Blair sneered.

"Would it help if I told you how much it cost?" he asked cheekily.

"975 dollars," Blair said. "18 karat gold. I saw it from the catalog."

"I remember," he told her. He lifted the necklace from its case.

"Chuck," she chastised. "This isn't me being some scared 17 year old, afraid of falling in love with her ex's best friend. If I accept this-"

"What was that you were referring to?" he asked. "Would it be that same night that I gave you that Erikson Beamon necklace causing an impromptu romp with me in a stranger's bed?"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked but felt him clasp it around her neck.

"Do you have to ask?" he responded, his breath hitting the nape of her neck.

"If he saw this-"

"That would require him actually venturing to see his wife and newborn son," Chuck answered darkly. She turned to face him, realizing the trap she had fallen into. His hands pulled her to him in a very inappropriate embrace that she felt she should feel guilty about.

But the only thing that she could feel guilty about was that Chuck was right. Blaine didn't have a father.

"I'm more of a father to him than Richard is," Chuck said, an obvious comment he felt compelled to make after he pulled away.

"Well you care about his mother enough to at least give her jewelry," Blair couldn't help but say.

"You really think that's it?" he asked. "This isn't about treating you like a mistress."

Blair pulled away from him to keep watch over her son.

"I love you," he told her in his low voice. A sentence that held so much weight for them with so much insecurity. "And anything that has a part of you, I'll love that too."

Blair turned in surprise to see Chuck's eyes weren't on her anymore. They were on her son. Blair reached down to hold Blaine in her arms. He stirred awake, his hand clinging close to her on the chain with the gold pendant at her throat.


	6. The Bartholomew Bass Room

**A/N**: I can promise this has some good Chair scenes. It's one of the climaxes of the current SL.

**Summary**: It was too much. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. She was just sitting beside him calmly and pleasantly, picking at her pathetic little salad and her skirt was too far up her thighs to be considered proper. He didn't like it. He didn't like it because he knew that she was doing it just to torture him.

**Disclaimer**: Characters don't belong to me but the SL does. **c****omewhatmay.x** is an awesome beta, btw.

* * *

The Bartholomew Bass Room had been instated when he was eighteen, and even at this point in his life, it was still where they would throw parties in his honor. Not the man for whom it was named after, but the son that was still withering in his shadow.

Chuck leaned back in his chair, his alcohol intake already taking effect as he casually observed all the players of society milling around, being outwardly cordial while stabbing them in the back simultaneously.

It was starting to occur to him in his muddled mind that he didn't even know why he was here, let alone why a party was being held for him. He picked up his glass to knock it back only to find that it had been pulled from his grasp by an insistent and endlessly irritating blonde.

"I think you've had enough for tonight," Serena said, sitting beside him.

"That isn't your decision to make," Chuck said decisively, thinking of the best way to successfully reclaim what was taken from him.

"You need to be presentable."

If he wasn't so hazy, he would have found that sentence strange coming from Serena.

"Why?" he asked instead.

"How's Blair?" Serena asked pointedly. It was a topic that everyone had been tiptoeing around and Serena was of course the one who didn't have the decency to leave well enough alone.

"I wouldn't know," Chuck answered gruffly. "I haven't seen her in two months."

His tongue was relatively more lose with his apparent intoxication, but not enough to remark that the last time he had seen Serena's best friend was when he had practically proposed to Blair to become his mistress. It wasn't the smartest move on his part and her husband had returned the day after.

He didn't think it wise to interlope, especially when the married woman didn't seem to understand how precarious and seemingly dangerous her situation was already. And how much he desired to protect her. Chuck Bass wasn't the white knight. But at Blair's tight smiles and closed off emotions that he could usually read, he knew that someone had to be. She wasn't doing it herself anymore. At the very least he could be her dark prince.

"You mean since Richard got back," Serena said densely.

"He was always there," Chuck answered sharply. "Just not for her."

"You can't make that decision for her."

"Why not?" Chuck asked. "She won't do it for herself. And she's not doing it for Blaine."

"The son you only met once," Serena pointed out.

"And how many times have you met him?" Chuck parried. "How many times has she let you over to that house? I doubt it's more than I have."

"You can't know that."

"As it just so happens-"

There had not been a time, to Serena's recollection where Chuck was literally drawn speechless. Not that she had seen, at least. But looking at how his eyes weren't narrowed with contempt as they had been since he walked in, and a smirk curled his mouth viciously, she knew something had caught his attention. It didn't take someone that observant to be aware of this and when Serena turned to face the object of Chuck's incredulity, she wished she hadn't.

Blair Waldorf-Whitney stood at the entrance of The Bartholomew Bass Room, a scandalously red dress clinging to her sharp curves, stretched across her jarringly flat stomach. Serena felt Chuck rise slowly from behind her and she didn't want to look. Blair hadn't spotted them as of yet, but Serena could practically feel Chuck's smugness radiating off of him in waves.

"Well this party just got a little more interesting."

"She's supposed to be at home," Serena stated.

"Is that so?"

Serena turned towards Chuck's skepticism and knew that he didn't believe the lie.

"Is that why you were pumping me for information?"

"She shouldn't have come," Serena said, feeling Chuck's fluid movements around her.

"That is where I would have to disagree with you."

Blair's eyes flicked over towards them and with a flurry of recognition, she put her best Louboutin-clad foot forward and started towards them.

* * *

"I thought you weren't coming."

Chuck had been lurking behind the corner listening to the heated conversation between his stepsister and his...

for at the very least, the past half hour. They had yet to mention him.

"I never said that."

Blair's voice was haughty and self aware and Chuck hated what how much time apart had done to him. He hated how parting was such excruciating sorrow.

"When we talked last week-"

"I said that I would think about it," came the cool reply. "That's it. I deserve to be out in this world again."

"But you didn't really think about it. Did you?"

"I did," she replied calmly. "I thought about how I was going to ignore your opinion."

"And where's Blaine tonight? I thought you said you couldn't leave him alone with-"

"Eloise is more than capable of taking care of him. There isn't any danger."

"Blair-"

"Drop it, Serena. This has nothing to do with you."

High heels clicked rapidly and Chuck turned away from the corner. He caught Serena stalking away out of the corner of his eye.

"Did you really think I didn't know you were there?"

Blair hadn't followed her.

Chuck turned without any humility at all to see the woman in front of him.

"Waldorf," he drawled easily.

"Bass," she returned. Like those high school parties they used to have where they would meet with condescension and false masks.

She held her red clutch to her side, a hand on her hip as she looked at him skeptically. His eyes raked her form with appreciation.

At first.

Before he could even think of reprimanding her, the light caught a gold pendant at her throat and without hesitation, Chuck took another step towards her. He watched her body contract with surprise for a moment before she regained her wind, looking down her nose at him once again.

"Here we are again," he noted. "Alone in a deserted hallway."

Her eyes flickered with emotion and he knew because he put the thought in her head. They were both thinking of the night before the wedding of something that she surely must have regretted. But he could never bring himself to.

"It's a wonder that history has a tendency to repeat itself."

She looked like the girl he used to know and she definitely sounded like it, but he couldn't understand why his married friend was speaking with him flirtatiously. She was breathy and she was here and he couldn't stop himself from his lethal approach.

"Do you want it to?" he asked darkly. But he wasn't enraptured by her eyes anymore. The pendant at her throat seemed to be taunting him with its glare and he wished he could see into her mind as easily as he had before.

He reached forward. "What do we have here?"

The touch of his fingers at the base of her throat sent a wave of something she shouldn't be feeling for someone who wasn't her husband through her body. He picked up the pendant, examining it with poorly constrained smugness as her throat moved with her sensual swallow.

"Do you like it?" she taunted.

"It's mesmerizing," he replied. "But what does your husband have to say about such a lavish gift from another man?"

"He doesn't know," Blair said, her eyes narrowing. Her back was against the wall and he wished he could go back to that night where her leg was hooked over his hip, her skirt pushed back up her thighs.

He wished his stepmother hadn't interrupted the inevitable.

"Charles," Lily said, rounding the corner. "There you are. And Blair. I didn't know you were coming tonight."

"I suddenly found myself free," Blair said, never taking her eyes from Chuck's.

"I see," Lily said and it was apparent that she saw more than she should. More than anyone should.

"We're just about to dine."

"Perfect timing," Blair muttered, passing Chuck on the way to the main ballroom. She had barely turned the corner when Lily turned back to Chuck.

"I know the past year has been hard on you..." she started.

"You don't have to worry about it," he advised, but couldn't help but keep his eyes trained on the entrance where a certain red dress had disappeared.

"She's married, Charles," Lily said.

"Like I need reminding," Chuck answered, still not looking at his stepmother.

"What you're doing..." Lily sighed. "It's a slippery slope. One day you're at a dinner party with your married friend and the next-"

"You know he's not right for her," Chuck responded, finally tearing his eyes away. "You know there's something not right with him."

"That's for Blair to decide."

"And what if she's not making the right decision?" Chuck asked in frustration. "She didn't even make it in the first place."

"Just be careful, Charles," Lily said comfortingly. "You may always feel the need to help her, but some things are just out of your control."

"Nothing is out of my control," Chuck said curtly.

It was his fatal flaw.

* * *

It was too much. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. She was just sitting beside him calmly and pleasantly, picking at her pathetic little salad and her skirt was too far up her thighs to be considered proper. He didn't like it. He didn't like it because he knew that she was doing it just to torture him.

But he loved how it turned him on.

She leaned forward in her chair and her necklace dangled below her neckline where he so loved to look. She must have known that he was because she crossed her legs tantalizingly so he could see that she definitely wasn't wearing her usual Falke stockings.

Or anything else for that matter.

But he couldn't help but notice what was lacking in her dinner. And he knew why her stomach was suddenly so flat and her legs so toned. He would be loath to even attempt to pretend that it didn't please him. But it didn't matter to him how shapely or not she was. What mattered to him was in what lengths she went to make such a drastic change in just a few months. He settled for reaching forward and plucking a plum tomato from her salad and munching it loudly in front of her.

"You're disgusting," she wrinkled her nose but he knew that she loved the attention.

"Only for you, lover," he rasped into her ear, sliding his hand up her thigh. She deemed it far too high because she clenched his hand with her cold, ring clad one, wrenching his hand away from her soft skin.

"Don't," she said in almost pleading manner.

Chuck could feel his best friend (and hers for that matter) staring at the not so secret rendezvous under the table.

"Don't play the game if you can't win," he said hotly into her ear, pleased with how she shivered. He pulled away with satisfaction. Months apart from her and she just walked into his party (which he was loath to attend in the first place) looking magnificent and it was satisfying to see that expression that let him know that he was the one who was winning.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously and he knew she was going to come up with some seething retort that never failed to put him in his place. He missed it. Missed this with her. And it was suddenly very sobering and heartwrenching to think about the fact that it could never be this way again.

"Blair," Lily cleared her throat at the awkward silence. The two of them reluctantly stopped staring at each other to look at the speaker. "I must say that I am pleasantly surprised to see you in attendance."

"This was an important event," Blair said, very aware that Chuck's gaze was burning into the side of her face at every word. "Eloise is looking after Blaine for a few hours."

"Oh, is Richard out of town?" Lily asked. "I didn't see him here."

"He's not here," Blair said rigidly.

She didn't want to force herself to look at Chuck's reaction but she became jarringly aware of it as she saw his knuckles whiten over the fork that had been previously poised over his entrée.

"Usually I would be the one to look after Blaine," Blair added, "but this was an important night for a lot of people."

Blair noticed the way Lily's eyes subtly flicked to the face of her stepson. There wasn't a way that Blair could be prouder of a person, pleased at how Chuck was finally letting a mother figure into his life. And she was suddenly very aware that Lily didn't seem to be as oblivious to the goings on of her children as a normal mother of their society might be.

Then again, Blair didn't know the definition of normal.

"Clearly," Lily answered. "I just couldn't help but wonder what sort of job that has Richard out of town so frequently. That certainly must be the reason that you've been absent from our society for so long."

"Society luncheons and brunches are just sacrifices that must be made," Blair said sternly. "If there's one thing that I've learned, it's that neglecting your children can have disastrous consequences."

"I wasn't insinuating such a thing," Lily said respectfully. "We all hope for Blaine to be well-adjusted. Which is all the more reason that Richard should be around to-"

Blair flinched at the clatter next to her, knowing that this conversation had been taking an uncomfortable turn since the beginning. She looked slightly to her right to see the scotch that had sloshed onto the tablecloth as Chuck slammed his glass to the table.

She tentatively turned her face up to his now standing form. For the first time, he wasn't looking at her. He was staring angrily at the other side of the room before clearing his throat.

"I think you'll have to excuse me," he said but his poorly restrained anger was evident in his voice. Lily had nodded minutely and everyone watched him stalk out of the dining room and into the hallway. Blair suddenly felt as though a million eyes were on her and she felt sickening déjà vu that took place at teas in the Hamptons.

Taking a deep breath, Blair found an inability to stop herself from rising as well. Strangely relieved that the aversion of eyes that WASPs were so diligent at accomplishing, she walked in the only direction that she had ever been going.

"How could you do it?"

Blair should have known the sort of trap that she could be walking into but there was always that something about him. That something that made her just not care.

"Chuck."

His eyes were hard and relentless and she wished all of this didn't have to be so hard.

"How could you do this to him?"

It wasn't really where she thought the conversation would be going, but she knew it wasn't like she really had a choice. Not when it came to Chuck Bass. Not ever.

Chuck neared her with his dangerous saunter and she felt herself leaning her back against the wall.

"Do you really think it's fair?" Chuck asked. "Do you want him to live a life, knowing that his father detests him? No son should ever know what a disappointment he is to his father. That is a burden no one should bear."

"You don't know anything," Blair said, finding herself taking the defensive. "You don't know what it's like there."

"I know that Richard is never there," Chuck said. "And thank God. I would hate to think of what harm he could do to his own son. What he does to you."

"Shut up."

Chuck tripped over his feet as she shoved him harshly against the chest.

"You don't know what Richard feels."

"And neither do you," Chuck reminded her. "He's never there, remember? Who do you think Blaine is going to blame for that? It won't be you and it won't be Richard."

"It won't happen."

"It happened to me," Chuck almost snarled. "I would be a better father to Blaine. I am a better father."

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he knew that he had to take them back. Blair was staring at him and he wished he didn't have to be so honest with her. He wished that she didn't do that to him. But she was staring at him and he didn't know what to do next.

Until she did it for him.

Her lips were suddenly against his in a welcome kiss. His instinct was to grab her to him, push her against the wall again... and just be with her. But she had pulled away and was studying his reaction as he had studied hers. She almost looked embarrassed and then she looked away.

"We should go back," she suggested with a tone that on any other person, could be characterized as shy. But her eyes were penetrating his and he knew that he didn't exactly have a choice in this. So he chose to walk behind her, not even wanting to stop himself and the smugness that swept through him.

"As you wish."

* * *

"Do you need a lift home?"

She was standing outside of the building and looking as though she were about to hail a cab. This was an opportunity and like hell he was going to miss it.

Blair shifted to see his approach, knowing exactly how loaded that question was. There were two answers. One of them meant falling back down the rabbit hole. The other meant societal monotony.

She wished she could help herself. She wished that she wasn't that far gone.

"I don't see why not," Blair sighed, letting Chuck with that self-assured smirk pull the door of his limo open.

As Chuck entered behind her, he couldn't help but notice that she had slid to the other side against the opposite door.

Then again, that would just make it that much easier to corner her again. Like she wanted him to. He slung his arm over the back of the seat and saw her frame relax visibly.

"You know how good you look tonight," he said appreciatively as the limo pulled away from the curb. Blair stared back at him, the answer obvious. "I just wish it didn't bother me so much."

"What?" Blair asked uncertainly. It always made her feel uncomfortable when he could still catch her off guard.

"It's obvious why I haven't seen you in so long," Chuck said, casually sliding closer to her. "That day after the hospital you practically threw me out of your own house."

"Are you at least attempting to make a point?" Blair asked wryly.

"I just want you to take care of yourself," he said. "That's a lot of weight to lose in two months."

"Stop."

Her single syllable was angry as she glared at the partition, away from his face. He slid over a final time so he was almost resting against her side.

"Will you be careful?" he asked, his true meaning underlying his words. "For me?"

Blair looked to see him tugging lightly at the ends of her hair. He looked almost bashful at his own hesitant words and she knew that he was too close and was touching her too much for just some platonic friend.

That visited her at the hospital.

Danced at her wedding.

(Had her up against a wall in a public bar.)

Feeling his fingers skim the base of her throat, she knew that she wanted him to kiss her too much. This was all too much. And it was clear the real reason why she wanted to come tonight.

To both of them.

"I'm glad you know how to accessorize with this dress," Chuck said fingering the pendant at her throat. "It suits you."

"Most everything does," Blair taunted.

"That," he said, finally looking back into her eyes, "is something that I would have to agree with."

This was all so...dangerous. And wrong. And unethical. And immoral.

And she was kissing him again because none of it mattered. She had instigated it. She was a whore and an adulteress but he didn't care. He was pulling at her dress and he just didn't care. It was him and only him who loved her in her worst moments because of her worst traits and she knew that someone had thrown a wrench in their fate because it wasn't supposed to be this way. They weren't supposed to be sneaking around in limos like they had when they were young.

That didn't mean that she didn't like it.

"Wait," Blair said breathlessly. Her back was pushed uncomfortably against the door and all of this just had to stop.

"Don't say his name," Chuck growled the warning in her ear.

"I'm not," she assured him against his skin. "I just..."

Chuck pushed himself off her frame so he wasn't crushing her.

"I haven't..."

She knew that he must understand but there was always that glint to his eyes that she had known since the beginning. He liked seeing her squirm.

"I went to the OB-GYN," Blair started again. "I haven't done this since..."

He knew what she was alluding to.

"They said my body had to heal."

"You want me to stop," Chuck said, more of a statement then a question. If there was one thing that he had promised himself, it was that he would never hurt her again.

Blair couldn't look away from him and something she would have to consider an earnest face if she didn't know any better.

"No," Blair said, astonished at her own reaction. "I'm done healing."

He liked it this way.

The way he was pushed onto his back while his city was flashing by and his limo contained the only person that he could classify as his woman. She was never anything else. She never belonged to anyone else. She had to be his. That was the way it was supposed to be.

Her red silken dress was on the floor along with all of his other necessary items so that only Aphrodite and Ares were pressing against his slick flesh.

The way it was supposed to be.


	7. The Rabbit Hole

**A/N**: So I promised that I would try to get this out faster but that just means that you can't trust me when I promise to meet a deadline. That being said, I plan to get this out before GG returns. :D

**Summary**: "I'm here more than the man you're legally bound to in marriage. You wear my jewelry. You answer my calls if only to tell me in that haughty and breathy voice of yours that you'll have nothing to do with me. Let me tell you now, Waldorf. You can fool anyone. But not me."

**Disclaimer**: Nothing is mine, especially the awesome chemistry.

_

* * *

_

_12 new text messages from_

**Chuck**

_30 missed calls from_

**Chuck**-

At this point, she couldn't even bear to open her phone. She knew the basic contents of the messages since three days after their last meeting. The day with the promise to be in contact with him that she just hadn't kept. She didn't recognize this person that she was becoming. She didn't realize she was becoming those women that her sixteen-year-old self had sneered upon in their unhappy marriages. Those women of society that she promised she would never be. She would never be on her fourth marriage, sleeping with her driver while her husband indulged in the adult entertainment business.

Instead, she was an adulteress who slept with a man lacking as much of a moral compass as she did. Instead she was swimming in that maelstrom that was the fall of her sophomore year of college. He would look at her in that smug way, literally sweeping her off her feet, and she was wondering why there was her mother's grand piano digging into her back, his masculine groans of pleasure morphing into her name as he ripped her garter off and hitched her skirt up and her legs around his waist so effortlessly.

She hated him.

She loved him so much it just turned to hate.

And back to love again.

Blair was always in the darkness, because she just found it easier to exist there. There, no one could see her emotional scars and the way she had once tasted blood at the back of her mouth. Just once was enough because she was looking at her son sleeping soundly in his dark room with the door closed. This would be enough for her for the rest of her life. If it meant keeping him safe from dark things that tread in the light masqueraded as a husband, she would do it. She would keep her son safe because never again would she let her husband touch her.

The house was silent from the nightly dismissal of Eloise, and it was what happened in a snap second that could frighten a protective mother. The lights from the kitchen snapped on, spilling light underneath the crack of her son's door at the exact moment her phone rattled against her wedding ring with its alert.

_13 new text messages from_-

Blair refused to look. She shoved the phone in the drawer before opening the door cautiously.

"You're home," Blair cleared her throat.

Richard looked coldly up at her.

It was the only thing she could be used too any longer.

* * *

It was a strange feeling. A foreign and alien feeling that shook her to her core. She couldn't remember the last time she had lain in the same bed as her husband. He was sleeping soundly and she had to wonder what he was really getting out of this. This cold marriage bed and hatred for a little boy with her eyes. She knew what she was getting out of it. But he didn't need security. He didn't love his son. Not like she did.

Not like a certain other someone. Someone she couldn't bear to think of for fear of the impending heartache-a result of the heart she had left in the back of a limo that night.

Even after the weeks she had last seen him had passed, she still felt the sting. She was surprised he had waited that long. She couldn't imagine the amounts of voicemails he had left and wondered how far up the spectrum his sobriety would wan. She wanted to know. But she hated that she wanted to know. Hated that she missed his voice and his smug appearance. She missed the hatred and all consuming insanity that she felt for him as well.

But she didn't have time for him. Not yet. Not when a clinically insane man was laying in her bed. Not when she was waiting for the next hit or a time when she wasn't around and something drastically terrifying could happen to Blaine.

Blair didn't sleep that night. It was strange how it was during her nights of hot and infecting sin that she slept the best. And next to her husband she was more afraid than she had been in her entire life. Sitting up, she knew this was her life. She knew fear and self-deprecation would overtake her until it destroyed her. This was the way things had to be. To protect Blaine. Even if that niggling thought at the back of her brain told her that someone else had the power to do that better than anyone else.

But she didn't let herself think like that.

She couldn't.

"You didn't dimiss Eloise while I was gone, did you?"

Blair started and had to wonder as her spine went rigid at his bland yet domineering voice. It took all that Blair had in her to turn and look into the eyes of something that she couldn't name.

She couldn't remember how long he had been gone this time.

"I doubt you have the capacity to make breakfast."

Blair wasn't sure if that was meant to be an insult as Richard threw the covers off him and vacated the room. It took a moment for her to catch her breath before realizing that yes, Eloise did come in at seven that morning and that all seemed to be safe.

Richard's only concern for Blair not dismissing Eloise was for the sole purpose that he was right. Blair wouldn't be able to cook for him.

Blair hesitated at the archway of the kitchen to see Richard already helping himself to the provisions in a house that he only resided in by name.

"Will you be eating, Mrs. Whitney?" Eloise asked.

Richard had a sick sort of tint to his laughter.

"Blair?" he asked. "When was the last time that she's eaten anything?"

Blair started forward only to cringe. She hadn't heard something so backhanded like that since she was thirteen. It was exactly what she had been dreading all along when she heard her forgotten phone vibrate against the drawer in Blaine's room. He began to cry.

Richard didn't notice.

He didn't notice until Blair made her way past him and he captured her in a tight grip around her wrist.

"Where are you going?"

Blair looked at him blankly, unable to even form words as a result of how confounded she was at his oblivion.

"Your son is crying," Blair said harshly. Richard would have looked at her, surprised at her audacity if he had bothered to care.

He didn't look back at her.

Her wrist was soon forgotten as it had been in his spontaneous action.

"You shouldn't dote on him," Richard answered, eyes fixed on his plate. "He's going to grow up soft.

"He's eighteen months old," Blair couldn't help but snap.

She knew he heard her. He just didn't care.

Blair closed Blaine's door behind her more sharply than she intended. His cries were already loud and it was only after an angry tear fell down her cheek did she realize that her phone was still vibrating.

She wrenched the drawer open. She glared at the bold name on the screen and before she knew what she was doing, she pressed the green button. She didn't let him take a breath before she broke in.

"Now is not the time," she seethed. "I don't know if you've realized this but I have a son to take care of. I don't have time to take care of you."

She snapped her phone closed before she could even hear his glaring retort.

That wasn't to say that she didn't know it wasn't there. Because it was. But Blaine's big dark eyes were staring at her so imploringly she had to wonder why he had stopped the sounds of his distress so suddenly. She made her way towards him, leaning forward to pick him up when she felt a tug at the chain around her neck.

Blaine's fingers were wrapped around the gold pendant that she had forgotten she was wearing. He smiled and she hated that Charles Bartholomew Bass was more of a father than Blaine's biological father ever was.

"Who was that?"

Her answer came swift and practiced as she felt her husband's presence behind her.

"Who?" Blair asked innocently. "You mean on the phone?"

"Do you think I am completely ignorant, Blair?"

Blair bit her tongue, hating how Richard was completely oblivious to the son that they had, observing this entire scene. Blair bit her tongue, knowing what her real answer would result in.

"Who was on the phone?"

"If you're not completely ignorant then why do you have to ask?" Blair asked. "I haven't talked to him. I don't talk to him. If I could will him to stop calling, I would."

"I have to wonder what it was that you did to incur the passions of a boozing lecher."

"Well there you go," Blair said. "He's an alcoholic seducer of women. It's not my fault he can't take a hint."

"Then why does it strike me that he isn't the seducer in this situation?" Richard asked darkly.

"If you have something to say, then just say it," Blair uttered. "Your talent for innuendo doesn't stretch as far as you think."

She didn't know where she had the gall but her words were poison and she used to know how to make a man's face fall in an instant.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Blair found herself asking in disdain.

Richard stared at her and she knew exactly what it was as he took a step towards her. Her already tense body took a flinching step back. His laugh was coarse and hard and it made her ears ring.

"If I find out that he was in my house," Richard warned quietly, "in my wife's bed, I don't have to illustrate to you the sorts of things that I'm capable of."

"I'm sure he's shaking in his three hundred dollar loafers," Blair scoffed.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Richard asked. "You would like me to leave your adulterous, whoring self out of it and go after him. Unfortunately for you, that isn't the case. Let me reiterate. I don't have to tell you the sorts of pain I could put you through without even making you bleed."

She didn't scream. He didn't hit her. He didn't raise his voice. But it was only when she heard the elevator sounding his retreat did she realize she had finally found it in herself to cry real tears of fear. Fear that led her to her phone and throw it away just as quickly. Fear that told her this was far more worse than she had ever anticipated.

Eloise found her on the floor. By that time, Blair had remained quiet and Blaine was sleeping soundly. Warm hands enclosed over her upper arm to help her to her feet but Blair knew that there was a reason she was sitting on the floor of her son's room after twelve hours. She didn't want help. Too much pride for one, small body. Too much pride to handle. But someone else knew how to handle it very well. Someone who had thirteen messages on her phone and now probably about 40 missed calls.

"You need to eat something."

"Why?" Blair asked.

"Blaine needs a mother."

It was only that which allowed her to bring her to her feet.

"I left dinner on the stove," Eloise said.

"You're leaving," Blair said monotonously, finding that it really didn't matter to her.

"Mr. Whitney said-"

"Go," Blair advised. She heard faint footsteps hesitate.

"That boy needs a mother," Eloise said softly. "But any father would be better than the one he has now."

"What was that?" Blair snapped.

It wasn't The Help's place to question or advise. No matter how sound it was.

"It was nothing," Eloise answered. "Goodnight, Mrs. Whitney."

Blair always knew that she was a weak woman. It was the reason why she bounced from man to man with no real sense of direction. She was no Serena, but when someone showed interest in her, all she understood was the primal need for acceptance. It explained so much. But it didn't explain why she was holding her unused phone in her hand. Blair always knew she was a weak woman. But she felt strong when he was with her.

The texts didn't interest her. Knowing a man for 24 years told her all she needed to know about the sorts of threats he would send her.

**I know you're with him.**

**My limo is strangely cold without you.**

**Pick up the phone.**

Then again, those last ones weren't exactly that domineering. All she could see was his smug lechery and all she could feel was the way his tongue tasted her that night like no one had since him.

This wasn't the way things were supposed to be. But still she waited as her phone dialed for voicemail and she listened.

"_Waldorf_."

On the first message, she could tell he was drunk. She knew that no one but her had seen him in that condition and as frightening as that intimacy was, she couldn't help but feel strangely prided in herself.

"_Waldorf_," he had said against hotly into the phone. "_I can't help but think you're avoiding me. I'm waiting. I've waiting 12 agonizing hours without you and I must admit, I'm getting slightly impatient. You do realize that the definition of giving in is throwing yourself at me in the back of a limo while your wedding ring falls off. You're lucky I caught that or Dick would have had a surprise that you gave another ring to the man who so aptly and efficiently thrust you so far up the seat that Arthur could hear you scream that you loved it when I_-"

"You know I can murmur those terms of endearment in your ear just as well as in person."

Chuck Bass' hand enclosed around her wrist swiftly, pulling the phone gently out of her hand as she whirled around. His face was smug and self-assured and she realized in horror that this man had come in at the worst possible moment.

"Miss me, darling?" Chuck asked. He leaned in a little too clumsily for him and she knew he was just as intoxicated now as he had been when he left those countless messages. "Because you have been out of my bed for far too long."

"It was a mistake, Chuck."

She felt his warm hand around her wrist and stared down at their joined skin. Their joined skin that had nothing to do with fear or antagonizing tactics. He was touching her.

And she liked it.

"Once more with feeling this time," he instructed. Blair sighed but forced herself to pull out of his grasp.

"You're not doing this to me," Chuck said, leaning against the wall. "Not again."

"How could you come to my house?" Blair burst out, the gravity of what was happening at this moment finally hitting her. "Do you know what he would do to me if-"

"Dick left some hours ago for yet another business trip," Chuck said. But his eyes were cold and narrow and she knew that she had said the exact wrong thing. "You can thank me for that."

"You?" Blair asked. "You? It was you all along?"

"No it wasn't," Chuck replied. "But it was me tonight. Can't you hear yourself, Blair? He scares you. _He_ scares _you_. It isn't right, it isn't natural, and I won't have it."

"I'm not yours to command, Chuck," Blair answered. "This isn't your house, I am not your wife-"

"And he is not my son."

Chuck's eyes weren't on her anymore but looking past her in the room with an open door. Blair wished he hadn't.

"Do you wish he was?" Blair found herself asking. Chuck's eyes were on her face again and she found herself trembling.

"I'm suddenly finding myself in a strange bout of sobriety."

"Why did you have to intoxicate yourself before coming here?" Blair asked.

"It was the only way I could stop torturing myself," he answered. "You're going to have to come to terms with the fact that I am sometimes wracked with selfishness."

"Sometimes?" Blair laughed shortly. He was quiet, but he was looking at her with those hooded eyes and that half smirk and she knew what was coming miles before it appeared.

"He is my son, Blair," Chuck whispered into her mouth. "More than the head case you call a husband ever will be."

"Don't say that," she whispered back.

"Is he listening?" Chuck asked. She shook her head minutely to his pleasure. "Then I'll say what I damn well please in my own house."

She shoved him away but he took her with him.

"How dare you?" she only asked shortly.

"All of this is mine," Chuck answered. "That's how I can. I'm here more than the man you're legally bound to in marriage. You wear my jewelry. You answer my calls if only to tell me in that haughty and breathy voice of yours that you'll have nothing to do with me. Let me tell you now, Waldorf. You can fool anyone. But not me. Never me."

"Don't try kissing me again," Blair warned. His smile was lazy and fluid. She knew how his mind worked and he knew that he liked her working him. They read each other as easily as a _Dior_ label and that simple sentence told him everything he needed to know.

She wanted him to kiss her.

"My little harlot," he said fondly after he finally pulled away, stroking her hair fondly. She wanted to be offended. She wanted to hate him. But he knew exactly what to say and how to say it. It was working and she knew that he was going to end up in her bed at the end of the night.

"You disgust me."

"Oh, good," he said. "I love this game."

"My son is sleeping in the other room."

"Our son," he corrected unabashedly.

"Don't do that," she reprimanded timidly.

"For now," he answered. "And for now I'll take that dinner that you didn't offer me. Thanks."

Blair scowled. "You didn't eat?"

"You know that I survive on a diet of scotch and..." She knew that way that his voice trailed off. He was a word away from another slick innuendo. "Pie."

"You're nauseating," Blair answered dryly.

"Why?" Chuck asked. "When it's only your pie I'm eating."

"You're lying," Blair's eyes narrowed.

"Why would I lie when I have a perfectly delectable married woman who covers me in her juices?" he answered.

"Do you want me to hurt you?" Blair asked. Her voice was dry and disconnected but he could see it there.

"I can just settle with you forcing your tongue down my throat again," Chuck answered. She was motionless and not taking the hint, he sat at the head of the dining room table, a place where he seemed to fit so seamlessly.

The sound of his silverware clattered and scraped until he realized that she wasn't with him. He looked up at her expectantly. His eyes darkened.

"Have you eaten tonight?"

"You're not my husband, Chuck," Blair reminded him.

"Your husband doesn't have the ability to love you like I do," Chuck answered. He returned to his dinner like nothing had been said and Blair found herself staring at him.

"You don't just have to look, lover," Chuck said, feeling her eyes on him. "You can touch for free."

"You have no idea what you're doing," Blair said, "do you?"

"I know that when it comes to you," he answered, "I am prepared to do anything."

"Like raise a son?"

"Are you offering?"

She didn't like that look in his eyes. It looked something like hope. It frightened her. He always frightened her. The way the wanted and desired her in a manner that no one else could even dream of replicating. He needed her. Exactly the way she needed him. It may not be healthy or well advised, but she was finding it in herself that she just didn't care. This didn't matter. Because he was right. He was always right. He was here.

Her husband wasn't.

"Blair."

She knew what he was asking from just the way he was looking at her. She pulled a plate reluctantly towards her and his satisfied smirk made her hate him.

"If you've finished inhaling my food," Blair said primly, "I think you'd better leave."

"I can't."

His voice was so convincing she almost believed him.

"Please give me a reason that is at least vaguely convincing," Blair found herself smirking.

"I'm drunk," he reminded her.

"That's what drivers are for."

"Well my particular driver is under the impression that I was down for the night," Chuck shrugged. "Arthur went home. Looks like you're stuck with me."

"That's what taxis are for."

"If you think I am going to deign using public transport you have sadly misjudged me," Chuck sighed.

"This wasn't even a fully concocted scheme," Blair sighed. "I would be lowering my standards if I let you stay."

"That's of no consequence to me."

"You're sleeping on the couch."

"This is oddly reminiscent of hard floors and social destructions."

"It won't end the same way, Chuck," Blair said, excusing herself from the table.

She wished her voice were even slightly convincing.

It was nearer to three in the morning when she felt her bed dip and a familiar and comforting body lay beside her.

And farther down the rabbit hole she went.


	8. Aphrodite and Ares

**A/N**: I really am going to try to update as much as I can from now until January 24. I've written the last chapter so it should be smooth sailing form here on out.

**Summary**: "No matter what I've ever done to you, you know that I would never resort to the monstrosities he's done to you. The only reason I haven't called the authorities is because I know that it would push you even farther away from me."

**Disclaimer**: Only Blaine and the abhorrent Richard are of my own creation. Thanks again to comewhatmay.x who I would be nothing without.

* * *

Even with them closed, Chuck knew that Blaine's eyes matched his mother's exactly. Standing in the middle of the child's room, he knew that he was bordering on the psychosis that he felt every time Blair was near. But he couldn't help it. He hadn't seen her son since the day he was born and he shouldn't have doubted her. He knew she would raise perfect children. He just hated how he wished they were his.

It was the exact thing that she feared. His body had been too much of a welcome comfort and then he was gone. It wasn't his absence that was jarring because she had experienced that too much to be surprised anymore. It was the fact that when she was sure she had heard her two-year-old son's cries, that the exact person that shouldn't be in her house, or in the bed that her husband had bought, was holding him.

"What are you doing?"

"He was crying."

Chuck hadn't even looked up from the child in his arms and it was that exact thing that worried Blair. This man was not her husband. This man was not the father of her child. Yet he was acting exactly like that and she couldn't help but think if things had turned out differently, if she hadn't been so stupid, how right it would be to be legitimately this way.

Blair found herself attempting to pry Blaine away from Chuck's hands. Blaine's shrieks of protests made Blair jump back as Chuck smirked at her triumphantly.

"Looks like you've been overruled, Waldorf."

It was in that one moment that everything changed. It was in that moment one word slid from her son's mouth and made every occupant in the room freeze.

"Daddy."

Chuck's arms had suddenly become pliant and Blair found enough wit about her to take Blaine away from him, setting him down. She could feel dark eyes penetrating the face that refused to turn to look at him. Blaine's reluctance to protest as he had done before was all the encouragement she required to push past Chuck out of the room.

"Blair-"

She heard his voice follow her out of the room before she whirled around. He was standing hesitantly in the doorway of her son's room.

"I'm sorry," Blair said hastily, cringing at the desperation in her own voice.

"Don't be."

It was the exact sort of sentence that she was afraid of. Theses past two years were so frightening and so horrific because this was exactly what she was afraid of. She was afraid of letting him be the father of her child.

"Stop," she whispered.

"What do you want me to say, Blair?" he asked.

"I want you to be afraid," Blair snapped. "I want you leave me because you are not ready for this."

"Who says I'm not?" he asked.

"There's a reason you're only here when my husband goes away on business," Blair replied cruelly.

"And what reason would that be?" he asked darkly. "It can't be because I'm screwing his wife because if I recall correctly, the last time you ever let me near your most holy ground was in the backseat of my limo."

"Which still confounds me," Blair answered. "I made it clear that an incident such as that can never happen again. So why are you here?"

"You're still wearing it."

"What?"

Chuck wasn't looking at her eyes. She shouldn't have been surprised, but he was staring at her chest. She put her hand to her clavicle and to her dismay, felt the chain that she had neglected to remove.

"I know you still love me," he told her, "because far from popular belief, you are not that difficult to read."

"Well stop it," Blair retorted. "You know that Richard's coming home in the morning."

"I am well versed to Dick's whereabouts."

"Stop it," Blair said, feeling her voice reach its breaking point. "Just stop it."

"I'm waiting for you, sweetheart," he told her. "You realize who your so-called devoted husband is. You're not restrained by your pregnancy any longer. I can protect you. Why are you still staying here?"

"Because he is my husband."

"A husband who beats you," Chuck sneered.

"Shut up."

He watched her dark eyes flick to her son's door but he knew that no one but themselves would hear their conversation.

"It was one time, Chuck," Blair said. "Things just got out of hand and I never let it happen again."

"Like you could stop him," Chuck retorted. "It may have been once, but that is one time too many. If you can't control the way he treats you, what do you think is going to stop him from hurting his own son?"

"He wouldn't do that," Blair insisted.

"Some would think that hitting your own wife is a taboo, but he seems to have cleared that hurtle," Chuck said.

"I would never let him hurt Blaine," Blair seethed, "and you insult me by even insinuating-"

"I'm not insinuating any failure of your ability to be a good mother," Chuck said. "I'm insulting your failure to take care of yourself. Don't think he won't hurt you again. Because he will."

"Speaking from experience?" Blair quipped.

"No matter what I've ever done to you, you know that I would never resort to the monstrosities he's done to you. The only reason I haven't called the authorities is because I know that it would push you even farther away from me."

"It's too late for that," Blair said. "He is my husband. And we both have to respect that."

"And what about Eleanor?" Chuck asked. "Have you told her?"

"I don't see how it's any of her-"

"She set this entire thing up," Chuck said. "If she actually knew what was going on, she would never support it."

"Well that doesn't matter now, does it?"

"It matters," Chuck said. "I could protect you. I could protect both of you."

There was that hesitance about her that he was all too familiar with and it killed him.

"You're afraid of him," Chuck stated.

"Why does this matter to you at all?" Blair snapped. "I'm not your wife. Blaine is not your son-"

"But you should have been," Chuck said in frustration. "We could have been married."

"A different life."

"It can still be in this one," Chuck said. "If you think I'm just going to stand by and watch this-"

Chuck's voice died at the back of his throat as a cry came through the door behind them. He watched Blair pinch the bridge of her nose.

"I think you should leave."

"That isn't anything I can't handle," Chuck smirked. "We've been through this."

"And Richard is coming home tomorrow," Blair said. "You know you can't be here."

"Because he'd punish you?" Chuck asked darkly.

"What do you think Richard will do when he hears that his own son is calling you his father?" Blair asked. "As much as a good influence you think you are, you are going to be nothing but trouble if you don't leave right now."

"This isn't right."

It was the closest thing she had ever heard Chuck Bass come to defeat.

"You and I both know this world never was."

* * *

It wasn't the first time that Richard had been home. It wasn't the first time that Chuck would come over at eight in the evening, when her husband worked nights, to see the stress overtaking her. She was wearing thin. She would jump when the phone rang and it took him weeks for him to get her calm at even the sound of a door.

And in an instant, he knew that one morning all of that progress would be eviscerated. Blaine would forget him and Blair would recede deeper and deeper into denial.

"Bass."

Looking up at the man who had caused so much angst for the past two years, Chuck tried seeing a resemblance. He had spent time with the offspring of that Park Avenue Princess and he had to say, he couldn't see the resemblance. Blaine may have had the surname of the sadistic bastard, but looking into the little boy's eyes, all he could see was Blair.

"Dick."

"I would be careful," Richard said articulately, "about the insults you sling in my own house."

"Insults?" Chuck asked with faux innocence. "I was merely addressing you by your name. That is your name isn't it? Because that would be embarrassing for me if it was something else."

Richard sneered delicately at the game they had so obviously descended in.

"So it would seem."

"And as for this being your house," Chuck continued, "I'm quite sure you have a wife and son that reside here as well. Not that you would know with the amount of time you spend here."

"Blair isn't here," Richard replied coolly.

"I know," Chuck said. "I wouldn't be here if she was, judging by the way she kicked me out last night. Just in time for your return to New York, I might add."

Richard's face tightened with poorly restrained anger.

"You didn't even know, did you?" Chuck laughed. "What your own wife does that you don't know about. What your own son looks like."

"I've heard rumors around here that advocate him not even being my son," Richard replied.

"Now you and I both know that isn't true," Chuck replied. "There was a paternity test when he was born."

"Those can be inaccurate."

"If that boy was my son," Chuck said threateningly, "you would know it. You wouldn't be married to Blair any longer, and she wouldn't be enslaved by fear."

"You really think any of that matters?" Richard asked. "Blair is under my control and I really don't give a damn if that boy is mine or not."

"If you don't care then what is the point of you remaining married to her?" Chuck questioned, feeling his inner wrath mounting.

"To be honest, watching you struggle over it is highly amusing," Richard smirked. "But before that, all I needed was a wife. Blair accomplished that even if it was through the means of a shotgun wedding."

"Perfect on the outside," Chuck remarked, "but here, it will always be empty on the inside."

"Then why are you so adamant about clinging to her?" Richard asked.

"Because she is the only thing that has ever filled the void," Chuck said. "I can't expect you to understand something as complex as that-"

"You do understand that amount of power I have in this situation," Richard said. "Blair will never leave me and there are reasons for that."

"Fear," Chuck said. "But I'm working on that."

"I can end this entire melodrama in an instant," Richard threatened. "So tell me. What is it that you're really doing here?"

"Just having a conversation."

"To taunt me," Richard said. "But it's not going that well right now, is it?"

"It's getting there," Chuck smirked. "This won't be our last conversation."

Chuck turned on his heel, heading towards the elevator. Chuck was about to press the button when the sound of the elevator filled the penthouse. He was face to face with angry features as Blair led her son out of the steel box.

"Hey, kid," Chuck said towards the bright eyed child by his mother's side. Before Blaine could even open his mouth, he was cut off.

"Blaine, why don't you go to your room and I'll be there in a minute."

Something seemingly telepathic transferred between mother and son and Blaine nodded sullenly before closing his bedroom door behind him.

"He was just leaving," Richard announced.

"I could only assume," Blair answered. "You must be extremely foolish to come here tonight."

"No," Chuck disagreed. "Just desperate."

This time he didn't look behind him as he entered the elevator behind her. Blair stared at the metal surface, reflecting eyes that she was sure never used to be so weak.

Hard fingers grasped her around her forearm, spinning her around. Blair couldn't help the loud gasp that escaped her lungs.

"You are not in the position to make a fool out of me," Richard threatened.

"No, I'm not," Blair protested. "I didn't mean-"

Blair clenched her teeth as his grip tightened.

"Chuck Bass just walked into my house practically throwing in my face that the two of you are consorting in an affair."

"He's lying," Blair answered adamantly.

"You are my wife," Richard said. "I really don't care whether you're happy or not. But you're my wife and you're going to stay that way. You are not going to be seeing him ever again. Do you understand?"

"What do you think I was just trying to do?" Blair snapped, attempting wrenching away from him. "You can't honestly think that I want him here?"

"He seems convinced that you do."

"He's deluded."

"Your voice has a sort of sick desperation to it," Richard murmured as he twisted her arm. "Do you know that?"

"You won't do anything to me," Blair sneered. "What would you do if I was gone? You would have to take care of Blaine and we both know that you aren't willing to do that."

"I'll just prove that he's your bastard child with that hedonist," Richard said.

"That's where you'll have a problem," Blair said. "Chuck is not the father. You can do whatever tests you want but all it will prove is that you're a sadist who fathered a son who will never know paternal love."

Richard released her so suddenly she collapsed against the opposite wall. She held her arm, knowing exactly how much a bruise would show the following morning.

"Mommy?"

Blair regulated her breathing before turning to see Blaine looking reluctantly through the doorway. She pushed herself away from the wall as Blaine clung to her skirt. He peeked around her legs to look at the man who was biologically his father. No sooner did son and father's eyes meet did Blaine hide behind Blair again.

"Everything's fine," Blair assured him, ushering him into his room. She tucked him into bed and leaned against the edge, catching her breath.

"Mommy?"

"Yes," Blair said, looking back down to him.

"Is he my daddy?"

Blair took a deep breath, knowing that Blaine was nowhere near the age to understand the complexity of what was occurring.

"Yes, he is," Blair answered.

"I don't like him," Blaine answered. Blair couldn't help but laugh. She knew this boy was her son. His eyes and the hue of his hair all belonged to her. But whenever she looked at him, all she saw was Chuck. Already his blunt nature was shining through and she hated how that man was right. She hated how that _hedonist_ was truly her son's father, no matter what the tests said.

"I know," Blair whispered. "Neither do I."

"Why can't we leave?" Blaine asked.

"It's safer here," Blair answered. "I have to look after you."

There was still confusion in his eyes and she knew that she was nowhere near close to explaining the entirety of the situation.

"Okay," Blaine relented. There were so many questions in his eyes. He was so curious but there was no way she could explain everything without endangering him. "Can you tell me a story?"

"Of course," Blair smiled. She leaned over her son, fixing his blankets. Her necklace fell forward and Blaine reached forward and clutched the pendant that she always wore around her neck.

"Tell that one," Blaine said. "I like that one."

"Alright," Blair said. "You know it doesn't have a happy ending."

"I like the way you tell it," Blaine said.

Blair relented.

"Aphrodite was the Goddess of Love," Blair began. "She was adored by all and had many lovers. No one knew where she came from. She was first discovered walking out of the sea with no parents to speak of. No lineage. No alliances.

"Though Aphrodite could have everyone she wanted, the king of the gods arranged a marriage for her. He was the blacksmith god and a cripple. Aphrodite was repulsed by him and loathed him like she never had before but she had no choice. The king mandated the marriage and she could not refuse.

"Shackled to a man who needed assistance even to walk, Aphrodite knew that she was above that. She was the goddess of love and exceeded all that was mortal and weak. Though he was her husband, she felt no connection to him. So there came the day when she met Ares, the God of War, and everything changed.

"Ares was cruel and bloodthirsty. However, the only lust he held higher than the lust for war was the lust for Aphrodite. There was no stopping the sort of connection that they had. Aphrodite was still married, so they could never truly be together. No one would have thought that the goddess of love and the god of war would have found pleasure in each other's arms but there was no denying the magnetism that was between them. Their pull was undeniable but so was their doomed relationship. They had no choice but to embark and a secret and sordid affair."

Blair looked hesitantly back at her son who was smiling contentedly at her.

"Aren't you going to ask what any of those words mean?" Blair asked playfully.

"No," Blaine shook his head. "Uncle Chuck taught me already."

"Uncle... Chuck," Blair repeated. There was something strange about hearing "uncle" in front of his name when there was a certain uncle that always plagued them at the most inopportune moments.

"He said to call him that," Blaine said.

"Do you know why?" Blair asked.

"Because Dick is my daddy," Blaine said. She could practically hear Chuck feeding those words to her son. "Uncle Chuck said he didn't like him either."

"So you know that Chuck can't be coming around anymore," Blair asked, "right?"

"Why?"

"It's dangerous," Blair said. "Your father finds him threatening. If Chuck came around again something very bad could happen."

"What?" Blaine asked curiously.

"You want me to stay with you, right?" Blair asked.

"Would Dick make you go away?" Blaine asked in fear. "He scared me tonight."

"I am so sorry," Blair said, holding him close. "I promise you will have nothing to be afraid of. I won't let him near you."

"Uncle Chuck said he could protect us," Blaine said.

"How many of these conversations have you had with Chuck?" Blair asked.

"He said not to tell you because he didn't want to scare you."

"Scare me?" Blair asked. She knew that Blaine couldn't understand the sort of fear that Chuck would have talked about. The sort of fear of knowing that you were just meant for another person. And the doomed state of how everything was.

"Can you finish the story?" Blaine asked, his short attention span getting the better of him.

"Are you sure?" Blair asked, ignoring the gravity of those words. "If I stop now you can pretend that everything ended well."

"I want the truth," Blaine said.

"Alright," Blair said. "Aphrodite's husband was aware of her dalliances with Ares. The humiliation was too much for him. While Aphrodite and Ares were in a compromising position, her husband caught them, letting all of the gods see them in their humiliation."

Blaine lay back in his bed, smiling up at her.

"I can always end that story before the humiliation," Blair noted.

"Uncle Chuck said that if two people are meant to be together, eventually they'll find their way back," Blaine said nonchalantly.

"Of course he did," Blair whispered.

"Will Uncle Chuck come back someday?" Blaine asked hopefully.

"You two really connected," Blair murmured. She stroked back her son's dark hair. "You know that Richard's your father. But if something happens to me..."

"Uncle Chuck said we could stay with him," Blaine said.

"If something happens to me, Blaine," Blair said, "you know that Chuck is the one who can take care of you."

"Like a daddy," Blaine said.

"Exactly," Blair smiled.

"You don't love Dick," Blaine stated.

"No," Blair said. "I don't."

"Do you love anyone?" Blaine asked.

"I love you," Blair smiled, kissing him on the forehead.

But she knew that wasn't the only one.


	9. The Climax

**A/N**: Officially there are only two more chapters after this. And I can promise that this is when things reach a head. This one is a little longer but only because SPOILER you've already read half of this before.

**Summary**: Chuck stared at the broken beauty before him, whose eyes were trained on the table. He should have known that all along this was what it was about, but he just couldn't accept it. Because every time they were even in the same room he lost control. Blair was married and it wasn't to him.

**Disclaimer**: Only Blaine and Richard are of my own creation and a special thanks to my beta **comewhatmay.x** who has been getting these chapters back to me as fast as she can.

* * *

"Stop."

"I can't."

"Stop."

"Not possible."

"Please."

"Am I hurting you?"

Beat.

"Of course not."

"The complete opposite?"

He was smirking suggestively and Blair had to pull away at his smug remark. She couldn't even look at him. Not now.

"That's why you have to stop," she breathed.

"I love you."

His sentence was so complete and so sincere she couldn't help it. She couldn't help but be in love with him with equal fervor.

"You have to stop."

Chuck pulled away from her. Sitting at the kitchen table, where she had been since the moment Chuck had walked in and started kissing her, she smoothed down her dress pristinely as Chuck stood up from his kneeling position on the floor.

"You asked me to come here, Blair."

She couldn't look at him anymore. He sat opposite her at the table and took her hand.

"Blair."

"I should go check on Blaine," Blair said, starting to rise from the table.

"No," Chuck said, pulling her back down with him. "We're going to talk about this."

"Talk about what?" Blair asked coldly.

"Don't do that," he said quietly. "We have to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Blair," he said again.

"I have a husband," Blair snapped. She took her hand back, hating his empty stare that refused to leave his face. "I have a husband."

"A husband who hurts you."

"He doesn't," Blair said, her voice reaching hysterical decibels. "It's not like that. You don't know what it's like."

"I know that I saw you with a split lip when you were pregnant," he said. "And then I didn't see you again until after Blaine was born. I know that he's never home. And I know that even Blaine knows that you're being abused."

"I'm not," Blair seethed. "I am not weak. I am not a victim."

Chuck stared at the broken beauty before him, whose eyes were trained on the table. He should have known that all along this was what it was about, but he just couldn't accept it. Because every time they were even in the same room he lost control. Blair was married and it wasn't to him.

And it was a problem.

"I never said that you were," Chuck responded.

"What else could I be?" Blair asked. "What sort of woman lets herself be resorted to this weak and pathetic person? Who allows her son to be put in harm's way?"

"It doesn't have to be like that," Chuck protested. "We could go away. You could free yourself of him."

"Why are you even here?" Blair asked in defeat.

"Because you asked me to," he answered. "And as much as I hate to admit it, you have complete control over me. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you if you asked."

Her smile was tentative and he was glad that she wasn't kicking him out of her house.

"I wish things could have been different," she said. "I wish I didn't mess everything up."

"You didn't," Chuck said. "We can still fix this."

"Why would you even want to be with me?" Blair asked. "When I'm this person? I'm not even who I was four years ago."

"You're Blair," Chuck smiled. "And four years ago I was going to marry you. That hasn't changed."

"Why not?"

"Because we're meant to be."

Chuck leaned forward, fingering the pendant that always seemed to glitter at her throat.

"You didn't have to wear it."

"Yes, I did," Blair smiled.

"Blair," Chuck took a deep breath. "Why did you call me tonight? I know it wasn't for the reasons you insinuated on the phone."

"Yes, it was," Blair answered. "I just needed someone. I just needed you."

His lips had a sort of demand over her and she knew she had said the magic words. There was not one thing about this situation that was healthy or right, but then again, when they were together, none of that mattered. What mattered was that even though she was married and had a son whose father wasn't him, they were still together. Even when they weren't.

"I can't do this."

Chuck leaned his forehead against hers in defeat at her words.

"I can't be without you anymore."

Chuck looked up in surprise and she kissed him again suddenly. He knew this was wrong. He knew this wasn't a permanent solution or even a solution at all. But it was happening.

That was all that mattered.

* * *

"Richard is coming home tonight."

"I know."

"This isn't why I called you."

Chuck sat up against the headboard, watching Blair stare intently at the ceiling, deep in thought. Even if it wasn't what she wanted him for initially, they always ended up like this. They were always in a limo or on top of a piano.

"Tell me," he finally said. Blair leaned up against him. He pulled the blanket over her when she trembled slightly.

"I'm a bad mother."

"You're not."

"Blaine thinks you're his father."

"He's a smart kid."

It was an amazement to her that this was the teenager she used to know. She had become an adulteress and this man she was with used to be that partying, womanizing, commitment-wary person. And now, here he was. Doing everything in his power to protect her from an inevitable force that would never stop until she was destroyed.

"He doesn't really have friends his own age," Blair continued, a slight smile on her face. "And I suppose that would be the result of him only hanging out with you."

"I didn't have friends when I was his age either," Chuck shrugged.

"Chuck," Blair whispered. Chuck looked down at the woman leaning against his shoulder. "I'm starting to think that you're his father too. But that doesn't make much sense. Does it?"

"Yes, it does."

The phone on Blair's nightstand began to rattle.

In an instant, everything can change.

Richard's name flashed across the caller ID.

* * *

"You have to go."

"I can stay."

Her dress had already been hastily pulled back over her head, but Chuck's shirt was still un-tucked and he looked far too bedraggled to be considered appropriate.

"Please, Chuck," Blair said, righting her appearance in the mirror. "He's coming. Please."

Chuck hesitated at the door, an obvious internal struggle tearing him apart on the inside.

"Please," Blair repeated. Chuck leaned forward, kissing her hard on the mouth before pressing the button for the elevator.

"I'll be right back," he promised.

"I know."

"I love you."

The elevator doors closed right behind him and the only thing she could think about was how lucky she was that Richard hadn't been standing right there. Her without stockings or make-up, and Chuck with barely any clothes left on his body and scratch marks down his chest.

She was entirely lucky.

"Mom?"

Blair turned to see the little form in the doorway.

"Blaine," Blair sighed in relief. They were still alone. They were still safe.

"I thought I heard voices," Blaine said. "Was Uncle Chuck here?"

"Yes," Blair said. "But he had to leave."

"Is Dick coming back?"

It was entirely clear what she had done to this poor child. He had no father figure, no role model. She had ruined him. No one to emulate, no one to look up to. And yet as she looked at him, all she could see was one person.

Blaine looked carefree and as indifferent as a four-year-old could.

"Soon," she said.

"Why can't Uncle Chuck stay?" Blaine finally asked in annoyance.

"One day," Blair promised. "Why? Do you want him to stay?"

"I know he does," Blaine said. "He takes care of me."

"I know you wish your father was around more," Blair said. "But I'm doing my best."

"You take care of me too," Blaine said, hugging her skirt. "But you said I couldn't call Uncle Chuck my dad anymore."

"Someday," Blair said. Because at that moment she really did believe it.

Then the elevator rang.

Blair stiffened and she knew that her son could sense it. He looked up at her and then to the elevator.

"Blaine," Blair said. "Go to your room."

"I don't want to," Blaine said crossly. He was becoming entirely too independent for her liking.

"I promise I will come and get you," Blair said. "But please just go to your room. And don't come out until I say so."

The elevator doors opened and there was a flash of something that Blair never wanted to see in the big, dark eyes of her son.

Fear.

"Blair."

She turned slowly at the cold voice to see her husband motion for the driver to put his bags on the floor.

"Richard," Blair said with an attempt at a smile. "You're home."

"Evidently," he replied as the doors closed behind the driver. "I called you."

"An hour ago," Blair said even though she hadn't answered it. "I was detained."

She cringed at the way the sentence came out of her mouth. She knew he didn't like it, as though he knew exactly what had happened in his own house.

In his own bed—not that he ever stayed in it.

"Didn't you have the maid come in here while I was away?" Richard asked.

Blair looked around at the impeccable room and found no way to argue.

"I'm sorry, Dick."

It was the exact wrong thing to say. Before she even said it, she knew she would pay the price for her rebellion.

She just didn't think she would pay so much.

"What is that?"

Blair was going to answer with a prim _that's your name_ but she noticed that his tone had plunged to icy depths that she had never heard before and he wasn't looking at her eyes anymore.

He was looking at her throat.

Blair's hand fluttered to the pendant and without needing look, she knew what was amiss. The chain had tangled and the flat side of Aphrodite and Ares were facing the complete opposite direction. Instead of the pair of lovers displayed for the world to see, there was a single word.

_Love_.

When Blair had thought about the inevitability of this exact moment, she hadn't pictured it like this. She thought she would get a chance for her own defense. She thought she would be able to access that woman Chuck claimed to love and spin a perfect web of manipulating lies to save her life.

She was wrong.

"Was he here?"

Richard's hand had caught her by the chain around her throat until it broke, falling with a clatter to the floor.

There was only one thing that Blair could think of.

She hoped desperately that for once Blaine would obey her and not leave his room. Richard could do whatever he wanted to her, but if something happened to her son, she didn't know what she would do.

"What are you talking about?" Blair gasped, hoping it would take.

Again, she was wrong.

Richard suddenly had her by the hair so she was forced to look into his eyes.

"Don't patronize me, Blair," Richard snapped. "Was. He. Here?"

And Blair knew what she had to do. She had to protect her son. She had to make this right like she hadn't for the past four years.

"What do expect me to do?" Blair finally fought back in a seething rage. "You come home looking like this. Blaine doesn't even have a father."

Richard ignored Blair's insult to his appearance. How he could never emulate the exact way that man did with three piece suits could with eloquent speech.

"That doesn't give you a right to whore around-"

"I'm not." She didn't care. It didn't matter. She couldn't be a whore when she didn't even have a husband to cheat on. "But even if you don't want to be his father, at least someone does."

"_Someone_ doesn't. Someone wants to humiliate me by getting with my wife into bed."

So there it was. The real problem that Richard had with Chuck. It wasn't jealousy. It was the fact that Richard couldn't stand to have anything less than an immaculate reputation. It was something they would have in common if things weren't the way they were presently.

"Because he could never want me if it wasn't for an ulterior motive?" Blair asked.

She knew that she was digging her own grave, but she couldn't help it. There was no denying the fact that she just had another man in her husband's bed. There was no denying that night she had come so close to packing her bags and her son to follow Chuck to Tuscany. She knew that Richard already knew.

"You shouldn't be wanting him to want you at all," Richard snapped back. "You are _my_ wife."

It was a breaking point and Blair finally said what she had been dying to for almost half a decade.

"Well it wasn't by choice, I can assure you."

His hand come out of nowhere. She remembered the one time that she had suffered physical injury by him, but this was different. She knew that this was worse than a split lip when she tasted the flow of blood at the back of her mouth.

"Where do you get off speaking to me that way?" Richard asked with his predatory threat."What is wrong with you?"

Blair straightened her posture, not letting him intimidate her any longer. She glared at him, wiping the blood at the corner of her lip with the back of her hand. She would not fall this time.

"I can't let you be around our son like this anymore," Blair finally announced. "You're not stable."

Blair turned, determined to get her son and never look back. Instead Richard grabbed her by the arm, whirling around to face his fury.

"Not stable? You invite men around my son and you're telling me that I'm not stable?"

"Chuck loves Blaine," Blair said. "He loves him like you never could or ever wanted to. Chuck wants to be his father. And he loves me too."

"You lying whore," Richard said with disgust. She braced herself for the jarring hit that glanced off of her cheekbone.

She could feel Richard's anger that she hadn't hit the floor.

She just didn't think it would come to this.

Reaching into his pocket Blair stood in horror as he retrieved a pocketknife.

"Richard," Blair said, slowly backing away from him.

"You think I'm just going to stand this humiliation in my own house?" Richard demanded. "You think I'm going to let you screw every man on the Upper East Side like the wanton slut you are?"

She shouldn't have said it. But in this moment of clarity, she refused to live in fear any longer.

"Technically, The Empire is on the Upper West Side," she sneered.

"Mommy?"

Blair hadn't heard the door. She cursed her son's curiosity as Blaine walked into the room to see his father holding a knife to the throat of his mother.

"Go back to your room, Blaine," Richard said darkly. "Now."

Blair was only vaguely aware that it was her own bedroom door that slammed closed.

Not her son's.

There was a flash of steel and a gasp of pain as Blair felt four hits to her chest. She wasn't even sure if the blade had really entered until she felt the warm blood flow down her chest.

Her knees buckled and suddenly the floor was at her back.

Richard had finally made her fall.

Staring up at the ceiling, she could feel the chain on the floor next to her and she couldn't help but think that she hadn't even told Chuck Bass that she loved him for the last time.

* * *

There was something on the air. Chuck concentrated on the blank screen of the television and he couldn't help but think that something had gone horribly wrong. He knocked back another glass of scotch.

He tried to convince himself that it was just because he was leaving his beautiful lover in the hands of her brutal husband. It had been an hour with no word from her.

He was sure of it.

And yet...

There was a foreboding sense of fear in him that night. He had only felt like this once in his entire life, and it was the night he had almost told Blair he loved her. Though there had been many nights that had fit that description, that had been the first of its kind. The first time he was planning on actually say it.

They were both seventeen and both madly in love, though refusing to admit it. It was at the Snowflake Ball that he looked at the beautiful necklace he had given her, glittering on her beautiful neck and he had almost told the beautiful love of his life how much he loved her and would literally be nothing without her.

And then he wasn't.

Because at that exact moment Lily had walked up to him. He released his hold on Blair and he just knew it. He could feel it in his gut.

Something terrible had just happened.

It was the exact way he was feeling now, though now Blair had heard him profess his love, even if she hadn't reciprocated it. That hadn't bothered him at the time because he knew it was true.

It was bothering him now. He had the sudden urge to go over there right now, even when smelling strongly of scotch and not his impeccable self. He had to hear that she loved him.

His phone vibrated on the table.

In an instant, all his fears melted away because there she was on his caller ID. Her beautiful name, the one that he would say for the rest of his life because she was going to leave her husband for him and they could finally be together.

"Blair," he said with relief into the phone. "I've been thinking of you. Are you alright?"

Then he knew something actually was terribly wrong. Instead of a sweet chastise from her wondrous voice, all he heard was silence.

"Blair?"

"It's me."

It wasn't Blair.

"Blaine?" Chuck asked.

Something was terribly wrong.

"Is everything alright?"

Maybe if he used a positive adjective everything actually would be alright.

But it wasn't.

"Will you please come?" Blaine pleaded. "I'm so scared."

"Where's your mom?"

He had to know.

"_Please_," Blaine begged. "He has a knife."

Chuck didn't bother with his jacket. He let a full five seconds of all encompassing fear overtake him before he found that scotch was spilling all over his carpet.

And it didn't matter.

All he could register were the three digits he dialed into the phone before he slammed the door to his limo closed.

9.

1.

1.

He marveled at how calm his voice was as he spoke to the operator, the limo nearing its destination.

"This is Chuck Bass," he said quietly. "Please send the authorities to the Whitney Penthouse on Fifth and East Seventy Seventh. Someone is attempting to kill my wife."

He left his phone in the car.

_No_.

The elevator doors had opened and it was the only thing he could comprehend.

There she was. There his future wife was sprawled on the floor.

And there her husband was hovering over her.

Blood was pouring from her chest, seeping into the expensive tiles, and only one thought that was clear.

"_No__."_

The only person who ever really knew him, the only person he could ever truly be with, the only person he had ever truly loved was dying beneath her husband and all he could think of was one syllable.

Time finally sped up and before he knew what was happening, instinct set in.

"Get off of her," Chuck seethed. Richard was suddenly lying on the other side of the apartment from Chuck's tackle and they grappled for a moment, Chuck finally getting a hand on what appeared to be a switchblade.

Like he had been planning it.

Chuck wasn't sure what had occurred in him to finally subdue Richard, but he knew it cumulated in slipping the blade into the man's shoulder. This was how it was. Survival of the fittest. This was Chuck's survival instinct because he knew that if anything happened to Blair, he would surely die.

Richard mewled weakly in pain as Chuck slid across the floor to Blair's side. Her dress was soaked in blood and all he could think to do was apply pressure to her chest that was weeping with blood.

Her eyes fluttered at his touch and he exhaled in relief. He knew that she was far from being okay, but just for a second, she was looking at him in that way that she did and he was alright.

But only for a second.

"Chuck," she whispered.

"I'm here," he promised. "I'm here."

"It hurts," Blair said with a wince.

"I know, I'm sorry," he said. "The ambulance is on its way, I promise. You're going to be okay."

But she was shaking her head and he was vastly afraid that she knew something about her time on the floor more than he did.

"Don't do that," he commanded again. "Don't shake your head like that. You're going to be okay."

"God, it hurts," Blair said.

"I'm going to make it better," he said. "I'm going to make you better. You believe me, don't you?"

She finally looked at him again and smiled. She raised her hand with great effort to brush his hair back.

"I love you so much," she told him.

"Stop it," he said. All he wanted was for her to take it back because it sounded like she was saying goodbye. "You said you believed me."

"I do," she said. "I promise."

"Don't leave me," he begged. It was the only circumstance where he could ever envision himself being so vulnerable, but this was Blair. He would do whatever she asked. "I don't know what I'll do without you. Please don't leave me."

"Chuck," she said like she hadn't even heard him. "Don't leave Blaine alone."

"Stop talking like that," he said. "I will make sure that you'll be alright."

"Chuck, listen," Blair said impatiently. "If something happens-"

"Blair."

"If something happens, promise me you'll take care of him," Blair said. "He needs you."

"You know I will," Chuck said.

"Do you forgive me?" Blair asked.

"What?"

"I am so sorry for all the pain I've caused you."

"Blair," Chuck said. That sentence held such weight for him. "Do not say goodbye to me. You are not allowed to leave me."

"Please just say you forgive me."

"I love you," Chuck said.

"I love you too," she said. "I would have married you."

Chuck pressed down harder on her chest, convinced it was the only way to keep her with him. It was then that he recognized a glint that was grasped in Blair's hand. He relaxed her fingers to see the broken chain of the pendant. He quickly wound the chain around his wrist, promising himself that she would be okay so he could give it back to her one day.

He hadn't even realized that the doors to the penthouse had opened when he felt hands on his shoulders.

"Sir, you have to get up."

He looked up to see New York's finest hauling a wounded Richard out while paramedics were trying to get Chuck on his feet.

"Do you want us to save your wife?" one of them asked. "You have to move so we can do our job."

Chuck collapsed on Blair's other side. Her eyes were closed and he would give anything to reach out and touch her again. But they were hauling her onto a stretcher in an attempt to resuscitate her.

"Blair," he said but he knew she couldn't hear him. Not anymore.

Chuck watched after her before seeing the light underneath Blaine's door. Chuck launched himself to his feet before throwing the door open. He hadn't realized the impact it would have on Blaine until he saw the boy curling in on himself, looking up in fear.

But relief washed over Blaine's face and Chuck became truly frightened. Blaine may have made the call, but he had no idea how critical his mother's condition truly was.

Chuck made his way into the room. He leaned forward, letting Blaine's arms encircle him as he picked him up.

"Hey, kid," Chuck said, holding the boy close. Blaine grasped Chuck tightly around his neck and he waited, just listening to what was happening on the other side of the door, unable to open it and seeing Blair's helpless body.

"Where's Mommy?" Blaine asked quietly.

"You're going to be alright," Chuck assured him, refusing to answer that question even for himself.

"What's happening?" Blaine asked from his place on Chuck's shoulder. Chuck turned to put his hand on the knob of the door before sighing. He set Blaine on his feet, knowing that the only way to address this was with the truth.

At least as much of the truth as Blaine could handle. Because Chuck understood loss of one parent and the complete absence of another. And he wanted to do right by the child.

"Blaine," Chuck cleared his throat. "You're going to have to do something for me. Do you think you can?"

"I want to see Mommy," Blaine said instead.

"I'm sorry," Chuck responded in complete truth. "But you're going to have to be brave right now. When we walk through that door, you have to close your eyes for me. Do you think you can do that?"

"Will I see my mom?" Blaine asked quietly. The boy looked so much like Blair, and Chuck wanted to do everything in his power to make him happy. He would do anything for him.

But there was still the sticky situation of what had just happened and as was not uncommon in the presence of a Waldorf, he didn't know what to say. He didn't know what was going to happen and he hated admitting that.

"Yes," Chuck finally chose to answer. "Then you can see your mom."

"Okay," Blaine said, his mind obviously made up. Chuck leaned down and picked Blaine up, relieved that the impulsive and independent boy was actually doing what he was told and closing his eyes.

He had heard horror stories from Blair and now that very notion was too difficult to bear. He couldn't think about it. If Blair didn't survive...

He just couldn't think about it. Because he knew there was no life for him beyond Blair. He had tried it and even bleeding to death on a cobblestone street in Prague, he had known it. Without Blair, there was nothing.

"Keep your eyes closed," Chuck reminded Blaine as he took them through the bedroom door. "No matter what."

If Chuck was devastated and frightened by the smearing of Blair's fluids all over the apartment, he didn't know what it would do to the small child.

He wasn't willing to take that chance. He had promised Blair. He was going to take care of Blaine. Chuck held him closer as the noise of shoes and shouting surrounded them.

"..._Caucasian female, approximately 27 years old, multiple stab wounds to the chest..."_

The CB radio was loud and he could only be thankful that Blair had been taken out of the equation because he was so afraid of what his emotions would do to him. He stepped through the empty elevator, relieved at the solace the steel box gave.

"Alright,"Chuck said. "You can open your eyes now."

Chuck leaned down to put Blaine on his feet only to see the boy glaring up at him accusingly.

"Where's Mommy?"

"I'm sorry, kid," Chuck answered. "But you can't see her just yet."

He knew he shouldn't have said it, but it came out so quietly through his despair.

"No one can."

"You promised."

Blaine's voice was sad and betrayed, and he was refusing to look at Chuck.

"I'm sorry," Chuck said. He couldn't help but mess everything up, even when it was the only thing that Blair had asked of him.

"We're going to Grandma's now," Chuck finally spoke up. "Is that alright?"

He knew that Eleanor was the only one who could provide structure when his world was falling apart. He knew that she adored her grandson and Chuck knew that he had nowhere else to go.

To Chuck's relief Blaine was nodding, but an expression of confusion was crossing his innocent face. He reached up to touch Chuck's shirt and it was the first time that he had realized it was stark with the violent color of blood.

"It's alright," Chuck said, though he felt as though it could only be the opposite now. "It's not mine."

"Not your what?" Blaine asked in confusion.

"Not my..." Chuck started but he knew this wasn't on Blair's criteria of taking care of her son. He quickly amended it to the best of his ability. "Never mind."

He knew he had promised, but the onslaught of memories and despair had come on so strong, he couldn't help but lean his head back against the wall of the elevator, his eyes closed in attempt to block his horrible reality out.

And Blaine's.

Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose, unable to rid the visions of Blair.

_Three words, eight letters._

It wasn't fair. None of this.

_The worst thing you've ever done, the darkest thought you've ever had..._

He couldn't be given his salvation just to have it torn away again.

_I love you, Chuck Bass. So much that it consumes me._

He knew he must have been more than a terrible person to deserve falling in love with his perfect match only to feel her life slip away in his arms.

_I can't deny that our past has been complicated. But love makes everything simple._

He would follow after her if he had to.

He could have married her if he hadn't waited so long.

"Are you okay?"

For a moment, Chuck couldn't help but envy Blaine. He had no idea what was currently happening to his mother. Chuck couldn't decide if he wanted ignorance or to be prepared for the knowledge that his heart may be ripped completely out of his chest.

"I'll be alright," Chuck decided to tell Blaine. It was just easier to lie.

"Chuck?"

Blaine sounded nervous and Chuck hoped that he knew. He hoped the little boy knew how much he loved him and would take care of him.

The way Blaine's—and even Chuck's—real father never had.

"Are you going to be my dad now that I don't have one anymore?"

It wasn't exactly the question he had been expecting. Though he should have. Just that night he had admitted to... Blair that Blaine's intelligence far exceeded what was normal. Of course Blair would always hold her son close and never lie like her own mother had.

When he raised his children, Chuck would never be his father.

Though it hurt to even think that the woman who was supposed to carry them was bleeding out on an operating table.

"What makes you think Dick isn't around anymore?" Chuck asked. He hated how cold his voice was and how similar it was to a dead Bass but he couldn't help it. His heart was being torn to shreds and he never understood another way to protect it other than shutting it down.

"Mommy always said that if you were to take me someplace, he wouldn't be around to take care of me anymore."

"Blaine," Chuck sighed. "Dick never took care of you."

He promised he would never lie to Blaine either.

Unless it benefited him. Like the status of his mother's health.

"I know," Blaine shrugged. "Mommy always said that you were my real dad. No matter what the tests say. What does that mean?"

"It means I care about you," Chuck said slowly. It was true and always had been. But he was still afraid. "You understand?"

"Yes," Blaine nodded. The boy seemed satisfied with the answer and that was good enough for Chuck.

But he was a Waldorf and Waldorfs needed to know everything.

"Will I get to see Mommy soon?"

The hopefulness in Blaine's voice was too much and Chuck was completely exhausted with everything at the moment.

"I hope so."

Blaine was staring up at him imploringly and Chuck had to smile. He knew that look. He grew up on that look. That was a look that he had fallen in love with and believed in him when no one else could care to.

He knew that Blair's death would kill him.

But he would live for Blaine.

"You have your mother's eyes," Chuck said quietly, unable to stop the sentiment. Blaine looked confused again, but luckily the elevator was nearing the ground floor.

"Can you be brave for me again?" Chuck asked.

"Do I have to close my eyes again?"

Blaine seemed contemptuous of that act that Chuck decided to indulge him.

"No," Chuck replied. "Not if you don't want to."

"I want to be brave."

Never in his life had Chuck been looked up to before. Never was he looked to for guidance or survival. But in this instance, Chuck thought that he could handle it. Maybe he could actually do this.

Blaine wanted to impress him like Blair had always wanted to resort him to be in complete awe of her.

She had never failed before.

"Good kid," Chuck smirked.

Chuck hoisted Blaine up again as the elevator doors parted. Blaine's grip on him tightened and although he wanted to be brave, Chuck knew he was still a child. And he would protect him with all he was worth.

He wasn't alone. Chuck felt soul-gripping fear as he saw the swirling lights and screaming sirens. Blair was in that ambulance outside and he couldn't help but return Blaine's tight grip. At least he was close to her in some way.

Chuck hugged Blaine close.

At least he had her with him.


	10. The ICU

**A/N**: The readers asked and I delivered. Yes, this chapter was already written. There is an epilogue coming at you that will be submitted on the 24th.

**Summary**: "I love you so much."Because if Chuck's words didn't come true, at the very least, he would know. She had loved him until her last dying breath.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing is mine. The imprisoned Richard and innocent Blaine are my only creations and all thanks go to **comewhatmay.x** who accepts my crazy ideas.

* * *

_It hadn't been the feel of a knife slipping through her breastplate. The truly excruciating torment had been that of her husband's weight, crushing the life out of her as he brought her to the ground. She had been staring determinedly at the ceiling, knowing that her life was slipping away and she would die beneath the sadistic weight of her tyrannical husband._

_That was what had initially tortured her._

_So while Richard's impatient fingers wrapped around her throat as she started bleeding out on the floor of their penthouse, she couldn't help but marvel at the fact that this was definitely not how she saw herself as going. When she had gone on that first date and felt that vibe from his strange personality, only to come home to curl at Chuck's side, she had not foreseen this. Even when her mother had pushed her into a loveless marriage, she had least not seen this. She had not foreseen being resorted to a quivering, weak mess._

_She had not foreseen being murdered by her own husband._

_But then suddenly, everything was alright. Suddenly she thought she heard the familiar sound of the elevator and she didn't feel suffocated anymore. She felt safe and protected because as she looked up, it wasn't Richard, or even the ceiling, that was obscuring her view._

_It was then that she knew she would be alright._

_"The ambulance is on its way."_

_Blair looked up, feeling a comforting pressure on her chest, and knew that at least in Chuck's mind, that was the reality._

_He was so focused on the blood that was staining her front that she reached up to smooth strands of hair that had fallen on his forehead. He finally looked into her eyes._

_"I love you so much."_

_Because if Chuck's words didn't come true, at the very least, he would know._

_She had loved him until her last dying breath._

_"Don't say goodbye to me," Chuck warned. "You are not allowed to leave me."_

_She curled her fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, finally at peace that Blaine wouldn't grow up alone._

_"I love you," he said, but darkness was starting to crowd her senses. It was a comfort to feel so at peace._

_But then she wasn't anymore. Chuck's hands weren't grounding her and she felt so alone and in a split decision, she decided. This time, she wouldn't be weak._

_She wasn't done fighting yet._

Pain cut through Blair's chest as gasped out in discomfort. She saw her own breath gather in the facemask delivering oxygen to her and she knew that she wasn't on her floor anymore. Blair struggled to sit up, but her body felt weighed down, like she was underwater with weights tied to her limbs.

"She's regaining consciousness."

Suddenly, Blair was vastly afraid. She was in a moving vehicle with unfamiliar people and they weren't comforting her at all,

"Chuck?" Blair tried to speak.

"Can you tell us your name?"

One of the paramedics was leaning over her and all she could think was how she detested their condescension. They were acting as though she were some weak lost cause.

She was far from it.

"My name is Blair Waldorf," Blair said through the mask. "And you will speak to me with a tone of respect when you're saving my life."

* * *

When she first got the call, Serena refused to believe it was real. Her phone slipped from her hand as Dan shook her, his voice muted as he asked what the matter was.

Realistically, however, Serena should have known all along. She should have seen the signs. How subdued and cut off her best friend had been. How she had only seen Blaine a grand total of five times in the past three months. None of it made any sense.

Chuck's even shorter temper.

So when his name flashed across her caller ID, she hadn't initially wanted to pick up.

Instinct took over.

"Get to Lennox-Hill right now."

Serena didn't even have to ask for Blair's room. The moment she stepped into the hospital, she spotted Chuck immediately.

"Sir, you're going to have to calm down."

"Chuck?"

She had never seen him like this. She remembered him in Paris, when he was paired with a cane and jeans but that was different. She had never seen him so disheveled before.

"They won't let us see her," Chuck said tersely, walking brusquely past her before his eyes landed on Dan.

"What is he doing here?"

"You said to come to the hospital," Serena defended weakly.

"I didn't mean to bring the Dregs of Dumbo with you," Chuck retorted. "Do you even realize what is going on here?"

The truth was, Serena hadn't wanted to admit it to herself. But the truth was staring at her blatantly in the eye.

Chuck Bass was the only one who would threaten to have the entire ward fired over Blair Waldorf.

* * *

Blaine liked his Aunt Serena. She was fun and she was light. Sometimes she would come over even when he knew his mommy was sad. Right now she sat next to him in a blue room on a blue bed with strange paintings like with a woman with white hair.

Right now, Aunt Serena didn't look so fun and light. She had that look about her that his mommy used to get. The look she used to get when Uncle Chuck would leave. But Chuck wasn't an uncle like Uncle Nate was an uncle. For some reason, it just seemed different. Uncle Chuck acted more different around his mommy than Uncle Nate did. Uncle Chuck sort of acted around mommy the way Uncle Nate acted around Aunt Serena.

But that was confusing. He didn't understand it.

Serena stroked his hair back with a sweet look about her that made Blaine even more confused. There were loud voices that carried up the stairs and he had never heard Chuck sound so angry.

"When can I see my mommy?" he asked. Serena looked down at him and embraced him.

"I don't know," she answered. "There are some things that need to be sorted out first."

"Where is she?" he asked. "Isn't she here?"

"No," Serena said sadly. "She's not here."

The voices downstairs were harsh and Serena closed her eyes, the way Blaine did when he wanted to block out his parents' yells.

"They sound mad."

"They're just scared," Serena said. "Sometimes when people get frightened because they might lose someone, they get angry."

"My mom..."

"Your mom is going to be fine," Serena stressed. "She's going to be fine."

"Is that why you're up here with me?" Blaine asked.

"Downstairs is a conversation for adults," Serena said. "For people who are deciding what's going to happen."

"What's going to happen?"

"Chuck wants to see your mother," Serena said. "As much as you do."

"Don't you?"

"I do," Serena said. "I just don't know what good it will do yelling about it when it's really not their decision."

_"I don't understand how you could let this happen."_

_"Me? I think the blood on my shirt is a testament to the fact that I did not let this happen."_

_"And Blaine? How could you submit her child to this?"_

_"I got there as fast as I could. You want to blame someone? Blame the bastard who did this to her in the first place."_

_"You were supposed to get her out of there."_

_"I did my best. Blaine's safe, isn't he?"_

_"He was covered in blood when he got here."_

_"It wasn't his."_

_"And whose fault is that?"_

_"It wasn't mine either. And truly, your care for your daughter is underwhelming even my expectations you had for her."_

_"Don't insinuate that I don't care about her."_

_"Could have fooled me. She didn't exactly have the most nourishing childhood. And who exactly was the person who introduced her to Dick?"_

_"Don't you dare blame Richard on me."_

_"I'm not. But you have to accept the fact that she was stabbed four times in the chest. You need to be realistic."_

_"Are you telling me my daughter's going to die?"_

_"I'm telling you that Dick's headed off to prison as we speak. But it's a little too late for that, now isn't it? The damage has been done."_

_"Then what's going to happen to Blaine?"_

_"Blair and I have already discussed it."_

_"He's staying with me."_

_"I am not going to let that happen."_

_"Blair was prepared that something like this was going to happen. She knew she couldn't leave him so we made a plan."_

_"You are surely not suggesting that Blaine would be with you."_

_"I was more of a father to him than his biological one ever was."_

_"That doesn't mean anything when it comes down to blood."_

_"You're right. Because right now Blair's blood loss is so severe she's getting several transfusions as we speak. The doctors won't even let us see her. It was Blaine's father who did that to her. So tell me how meaningful blood is. Blair knew the reality."_

_"Which would be?"_

_"That he was more of a monster than I could ever be."_

_"Blair's judgment was impaired."_

_"Even you couldn't convince her to leave him. Right now, Blaine's life hangs in the balance, along with his mother's. He could be an orphan. Do you know how to deal with that?"_

_

* * *

_

"Where's Blaine?"

Serena was relieved that Dan had offered to go get coffee. Though if she didn't know any better, she would have suspected that Chuck's docile nature would have more to do with doctors sedating him than being that naturally calm.

She was surprised at first to see Chuck deigning to sit on the ground, but as he cradled his head in his arms, she knew the gravity of the situation.

"I took him to Eleanor's first."

She knew that Chuck wasn't in the mood for conversation, but she needed to know. Right now, her best friend was hooked up to a dozen machines and no one knew if she would last the night or not.

"But I got here as fast as I could."

"Does he know?" Serena asked. "What's going on?"

"You mean did I tell him that his sadistic father attacked Blair with a switchblade?" Chuck snapped. "No. I made the executive decision not to tell him something that could possibly scar him for life."

"That's not what I meant," Serena said shakily, unable to control herself. Because the reality was she hadn't known what had happened until that exact moment.

"Then why don't you tell me, Serena?" Chuck asked. "What would you have done?"

"Where's Eleanor?" Serena asked instead. Chuck rolled his eyes with complete contempt. But she knew what the true problem was. The true problem was that Chuck was falling apart.

He just refused to let anyone else see it.

"I told you," he said with frustration. "She's at home with Blaine. I thought it best he recover before he sees his mother's mangled breastplate."

"Stop it, Chuck," Serena said, attempting to hold back tears.

"Do you want me to lie to you?" Chuck asked. "Like I've been lying to everyone for the past four years?"

"You should have told someone, Chuck," Serena said.

"You knew," he seethed. "You knew exactly what was going on, yet it suited you better to ignore it. Just like Eleanor."

"Don't," Serena warned.

"Why not?" Chuck asked. "It was a hopeless situation. Blair refused to report him. What did you want me to do?"

Tears welled up and wavered in Serena's eyes, but Chuck ignored them. They were just weakness.

"You just saw what you wanted to see," Chuck uttered cruelly. Serena looked away from him to see a doctor approaching.

"Is one of you the family of Blair Waldorf?"

Chuck cut off Serena immediately, getting to his feet. "I am."

"You're the husband?" the doctor asked cautiously.

"No," Chuck sneered. "The husband is the one that thrust a piece of metal four times into her chest."

The doctor looked to the ground. Everyone knew he was Chuck Bass and everyone knew he was getting into that room no matter what.

"So you're the..." the doctor trailed off, "brother?"

"Whatever," Chuck said, leading the doctor away from Serena's earshot. "Tell me."

"Blair is in critical condition," the doctor said, "but she's been stabilized."

"I want to see her," Chuck answered, taking every piece of good information he could get.

"She's still unconscious," the doctor said. "You won't be able to talk to her."

"I didn't say I wanted to talk to her," Chuck snapped. "I just want to see her."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," the doctor said.

"What's stopping you?" Chuck asked.

"Blair will still be under for several more hours," he replied. "I suggest you go home and get some sleep."

"I'm not leaving her," Chuck vowed.

"It's still against regulation for you to see her, Mr. Bass," the doctor answered. "I'm sorry."

* * *

A shaft of light spilled through the dark room as Blaine shifted on top of the smooth covers. His eyes opened and he knew immediately who sat down on the bed with him.

"Hey, kid."

Blaine sat up, bleary eyed.

"You and Grandma were fighting."

"I don't wonder where your mother gets her sharp tongue from," Chuck said, though all humor was gone from his voice.

"Am I the reason you were fighting?"

"No," Chuck said severely. "No. If there's one thing you need to understand that if this happened for a reason, it's my fault."

"You didn't do anything," Blaine said in disbelief.

"I could have stopped it."

"Stopped what?" Blaine asked. "Is something wrong with her? I heard you talking..."

"Your grandmother appealed to me not to share this information with you," Chuck said. "But I can't ignore it."

"Where is she?"

"Your mother's in the hospital," Chuck said. "She's in critical, but she's stable."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that she's okay," Chuck said, "but she got hurt."

"You didn't do it to her," Blaine knew.

"Of course not."

"Then it's not your fault," Blaine said, knowing his mommy would be proud of him for being _mature_.

"Maybe you're right," Chuck smiled. But it wasn't the normal smile that he usually had. It didn't look real on his face. Blaine hugged Chuck around the arm. Chuck really did smile then, tousling his hair.

"Do you want to see her?" Chuck asked. "Your grandmother was against the idea, but I think..."

"I can see her?" Blaine asked, glad that Chuck hadn't gone back on his word.

"Not right now," Chuck said. "But her doctors said we can in the morning."

"I don't want to wait," Blaine said, crossing his arms.

"Neither do I."

* * *

"The hospital called."

Serena was sure that Chuck wouldn't want to talk to her that morning, but she then scolded herself. Of course Chuck wasn't thinking of her and her feelings. His mind was in a whole different place.

Sometimes, she hated Chuck. She hated how close he was to her best friend. How he knew her better than Serena herself. How much he loved her.

She knew she was jealous to a degree, but upon that realization, she was surprised. And a little frightened. She shouldn't be jealous of Chuck Bass. But she knew that wasn't the truth of it.

She was really jealous of what Chuck and Blair had. Even now.

Even now as her best friend lay slumbering with bandages wrapped around her, she was jealous.

"They said she can have minimal visitors today."

He still wasn't looking at her, just drinking something from a suspicious looking mug.

"Eleanor?" Serena questioned.

"It doesn't seem likely," Chuck answered tactfully. But she could hear the ire in his voice.

"You should go," Serena offered, wanting to placate Chuck though she knew it wasn't hers to offer. He cast her a scathing glance and she knew he was thinking the exact same thing.

"When I go in," he stated, "I'm taking Blaine with me."

"What?" Serena asked. "You just said you didn't tell him what happened."

"I didn't give him all the gory details but he knows Blair's hurt," Chuck said. "I know what it's like to have your parents just slip away and I won't do that to Blaine. He doesn't deserve it."

Serena knew that was the end of the conversation as Chuck got to his feet. She knew he had just become the head of the family.

* * *

_"Where do you get off speaking to me that way? What's wrong with you?"_

_"I can't let you be around our son like this anymore. You're not stable."_

_"Not stable? You invite men around my son and you're telling me that I'm not stable?"_

Blaine watched his mother's eyes snap open with relief.

"You should go in."

Blaine looked inquiringly at Chuck's position at the door.

"Aren't you going to?" Blaine asked, uncomfortable that he didn't have protection, though not sure why he would need it.

"I will," Chuck answered distantly. "You first. She's your mother."

Blaine watched his mother pull herself up with difficulty, out of her waking dream. Blaine looked back at Chuck, who gave him an encouraging nod. The door clicked behind him and he ran towards his mother, now that Chuck's eyes weren't on him.

"Careful," his mother said, her voice tired as he jumped onto her bed. He saw her hand clutch her chest momentarily before her eyes reached his again. He hugged her and he felt her body go stiff before reaching around his back to return the embrace.

"Are you alright?" she asked seriously.

"I missed you," he said instead. She smiled but it wasn't the normal smile that she used to wear, when she would flick her dark hair over her shoulder and the clicking of her expensive heels could be heard.

"Blaine," she said. "I just want to know that you're alright. What happened that night..."

"It's okay," Blaine said. "Chuck was there. I was safe."

"You know that there was something that you needed saving from."

"Father," Blaine said.

"Yes..." she answered. "Your father. But we're safe now."

"Are we going to live with Chuck now?" Blaine asked with interest.

"Why would we do that?" she asked seriously. "I thought you stayed with your grandmother."

"We did," Blaine said. "But he's my dad. Isn't that what you said?"

"I did," she replied. "But only when your father wasn't around, remember?"

"You said we're safe now."

"We are," she nodded. "I just don't know what's going to happen now."

"Are you safe, Mommy?" he asked, lying beside her.

"Yes," she said. "Now that that I know you're alright."

"I'm fine," he said. "Chuck saved me."

"Yes," she murmured. "He saved all of us."

* * *

Chuck watched them through the glass. Eleanor still had yet to make an appearance and Serena was probably just sulking about. But for now, he would just look. He smiled slightly as he watched mother and son embrace.

He still waited.

"You know you can go in now."

Chuck didn't turn at the doctor's voice.

"I know," he answered. "I just want to give them a minute alone."

"She was asking for you."

When Chuck turned in surprise the doctor was already walking away and the urge was too strong.

He had to see her. Even so, he waited. He waited until the stress of the previous night lured Blaine to sleep. He knew the boy being conscious would prove for questions he knew the both of them weren't ready to answer yet.

His put his hand to the handle and stepped inside the room, feeling Blair's eyes on him immediately.

"Hey."

He was relieved at the sound of her voice, which was not full of rejection or refusal. She stroked Blaine's hair as he lay on her lap and Chuck closed the door behind him.

"Are you going to actually enter the room?" Blair asked, her sense of humor apparently still about her. He smiled, realizing that for some reason, he seemed to be nervous. There was nothing standing in his way of her any longer, save for her critical health.

He didn't know how to act.

Still, he took a tentative step forward.

"Chuck," Blair said. "Please."

And it fell back into place because she was just so alive and _there_ in his arms that he felt as though he could breathe again.

* * *

_"He's tired."_

Blaine stirred at the sound of his mother's soft voice. He didn't really remember her use a tone like that before.

_"No, don't move him. He just needs to sleep."_

_"You shouldn't tax yourself."_

The familiar dark voice was a comfort. A voice that he heard many times going to sleep. Where he felt safe because in his bones, he knew his actual father was danger.

_"Tax myself? He's just sleeping."_

_"That isn't what I meant."_

_"Leave him."_

_"Blair."_

There was a pause as Blaine felt sleep overcome him. It was nice to feel safe.

_"We don't have to talk about it."_

_"Talk about what?"_

_"Don't do that."_

_"Do what?"_

_"I understand if you don't want to talk about this here..."_

_"There's nothing to talk about."_

_"Don't say that. Don't... don't you dare say that. Do you know how scared I was when I ran in there? You could have—"_

_"But I didn't. Everything is fine."_

_"I would have killed him."_

_"We're not talking about this."_

_"I could have."_

_"Stop it, Chuck."_

_"I wish I was strong enough."_

_"I said stop it."_

_"I can take care of you. You know I can."_

_"That wasn't what it was about."_

"You wouldn't leave some sadist for me?"

_"What about Blaine?"_

_"You know I love him. I take care of him. Like you."_

_"That's not what I meant. Richard would have—I'm sorry I couldn't have risked my son's life for you."_

_"You know that's not what I meant. You know I would have protected the both of you. You know I will."_

Silence, and Blaine marveled at the strange dream.

_"I'm scared."_

_"He won't hurt you anymore."_

_"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't-"_

_"I came. I came for you. You know I would have never let anything happen to you. I just wish I wasn't late-"_

_"You saved me, Chuck. You did."_

_"Not before he got to you. I got there and I saw that knife in his hand and I just... I saw red. I didn't know-"_

_"You saved me."_

_"I wish it was enough."_

_"It is. I'm fine."_

_"Four times, Blair. He got that thing in you four times before I could stop him. And all because of me."_

_"Chuck."_

_"What? We both know that it's my fault."_

_"First you're saying how I should have left him for you and now you're blaming yourself."_

_"I know you were fighting about me."_

_"Your ego knows no bounds."_

_"What else could it have been? He knew that I loved you. He knew I was a threat. So he tried to kill you."_

_"Loved?"_

_"That's the problem you're having with this scenario?"_

_"Loved?"_

_"Love. You know that I'll never stop loving you."_

_"I wish..."_

_"What?"_

_"I wish that I wasn't so mangled."_

_"You're beautiful."_

_"Four times. You said it yourself."_

_"You're beautiful. And you can tell me that you love me too, you know. He isn't around anymore."_

_"I love you too."_


	11. Epilogue

**A/N**: The end to a fic I started months ago merely on a whim. I hope all of you have enjoyed the ride and here is the end to the angst that poor future CB went through just to be together.

**Summary**: She looked up into his eyes and he smiled. It wasn't the smile of relief or of that innocence they seemed to be emulating for weeks. It was of the familiar lewd scan of her body that made her feel beautiful for the first time in four years.

**Disclaimer**: None is mine save for the victorious Blaine and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named because everyone hates him and is glad he's in prison. Everyone should thank **comewhatmay.x **and worship the ground she walks on because this fic would not have been possible without her. Despite my doubts, she approved this epilogue and the end to a fic I started oh so long ago. I seriously encourage anyone who is interested to go listen to the song Doll Parts by Hole. It's great and is the inspiration for the title and lyrics belong to them as well.

* * *

_Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, they really do  
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, but I do too_

_-"Doll Parts"  
-Hole_

She felt his eyes on her. Cautious and probing, it was a sort of habit that he had picked up. He never stopped watching her, never stopped observing her like he was still afraid for her. She didn't want him to be afraid when she still felt so weak.

But she looked up into his eyes and he smiled. It wasn't the smile of relief or of that innocence they seemed to be emulating for weeks. It was of the familiar lewd scan of her body that made her feel beautiful for the first time in four years.

Chuck slid his arms around her waist, enjoying the way her arms encircled his neck. He caressed the silk texture of her dress as they revolved slightly to the quiet music floating into the villa from the Tuscan street outside. Blair leaned her head against his shoulder and he could finally smell her, touch her, and taste her without worrying that he would be excommunicated the next day.

"I have something for you," Chuck said quietly into her hair. Blair looked up, and she had that almost innocent excitement at being given a gift.

Chuck put his hands to her waist, turning her to sit down in front of a mirror.

"Close your eyes."

Blair looked at him suspiciously this time, but did what he requested of her. It wasn't until she felt the cool chain around her neck did her eyes flutter open.

"When they wouldn't let me see you," Chuck said, on his knees as he clasped the necklace around her neck, "I had to do anything to keep my mind off of it. I went to Tiffany's and had the clasp repaired."

Blair fingered the cold plating that lay against her sternum, where it belonged. Chuck placed a kiss against her hair, reminding her of tears shed at weddings for the help, but this time, loving Chuck too much wasn't a bad thing.

* * *

"I wish it was enough."

Blaine was sleeping in the corner. Blair gazed at him, unable to look at who was actually speaking to her. She was aware of the wires plugging her into machines, and she was done with looking weak. She was done with it all. And even so, Chuck still spoke to her.

His voice was soft, almost beseeching, and it was only a moment before Blair had to look back to him.

"It is," she finally insisted. "I'm fine."

But looking into Chuck's eyes, she almost wished that she hadn't. They were hard and angry, even though she knew it wasn't anger directed at her.

"Four times, Blair," he said darkly, glaring at his clasped hands lying on the bed. "He got that thing in you four times before I could stop him. And all because of me."

"Chuck."

Blair took his hands firmly in hers, and for the first time, she wasn't wary of what she looked like.

"What?" Chuck snapped, pulling his hands away. She ignored the hurt blooming in her chest. "We both know that this is my fault."

"First you're saying how I should have left him for you and now you're blaming yourself," Blair snapped back. She would never let Chuck Bass get the better of her, no matter how much wrath he projected.

"I know you were fighting about me."

But this time Blair had to laugh.

"Your ego knows no bounds."

Because she loved him.

* * *

It was a strange feeling. They were in a foreign country; the only sounds were of harsh panting and their bodies sliding together. But they were together. It was the first time in almost half a decade that Blair had actually been with him and had not been afraid that her life could end the next moment.

The summer air was thick, and even as they were finished, he didn't stop looking at her. She shifted uncomfortably beneath his weight but that only made him kiss her neck sweetly. His hand slid from her shoulder to her chest, where four dashes of scarring were that would never go away. She knew that look in his eyes. She knew that dark brooding look, and so she kissed him fiercely, trying to remind him that she was here.

"We match now," she whispered. He was brought back to reality, his brow furrowed. She brought her own hand down to his hip, where his own scar marred his flesh.

"Don't talk like that," he said. "Don't talk like this is some sort of game."

"Do you regret it?"

He could tell she was getting angry with him as she started pushing him off of her.

"Regret what?" he asked threateningly.

"You know what," Blair answered, as Chuck begrudgingly let her up.

"Don't," he said, causing her to look back.

"I was just thinking," Blair answered. "Maybe you're really not ready to be a father. Because if you're not, tell me now. Blaine doesn't need another father like that."

"Another father like what?" Chuck asked. "I would never do that to him and you know it."

Blair's eyes were dark and he knew the only way he could redeem himself was actually explaining how he felt.

"You could have slipped away so easily," Chuck said quietly. "Those first few hours when they brought you in. And then..."

She understood. And then there would be nothing. For either of them. Blair drew him into her, her hand clasping at the back of his neck.

His arms surrounded her waist and they were lying horizontal again.

"We're in a lot of trouble," Blair smiled, "aren't we?"

"Only the best kind."

* * *

"What else could it have been?"

Blair looked towards Blaine's sleeping form at Chuck's scornful voice, but he just kept sleeping soundly.

"He knew that I loved you," Chuck continued. "He knew I was a threat. So he tried to kill you."

Blair raised her eyebrows at him incredulously.

"Loved?"

"That's the problem you're having with this scenario?" Chuck asked, only the slightest of humor lighting his voice.

"_Loved_?" Blair stressed again. If there was any chance that Chuck didn't want her, now that she wasn't unattainable any longer, she didn't know what she would do.

"Love," Chuck said in the most genuine tone she had ever heard. "You know that I'll never stop loving you."

Blair leaned back in her bed, completely aware of her unflattering dress under the florescent lights but Chuck seemed to refuse to look away from her. She felt so scrutinized and very aware of the bandages wrapped around her like a sash.

"I wish..." Blair sighed.

"What?" Chuck leaned forward in his chair, lacing his fingers through hers.

He still wasn't looking away.

"I wish that I wasn't so mangled," Blair finally exhaled. He was smiling at her and she had to look at their interlocked hands to distract herself.

"You're beautiful."

"Four times," Blair said coldly. "You said it yourself."

The hospital bed dipped and she knew she would be alright. She accommodated Chuck's body, feeling finally safe, now that his arms were wrapped around her again.

"You're beautiful," he repeated softly into her ear.

She looked up and realized that maybe him being so close wasn't the greatest idea. He was complimenting her and it was the first day she wasn't completely drugged on painkillers. But his lips on hers was the best kind of drug.

* * *

Her breathing had evened out, the blankets of the bed now twisted around their ankles. In that moment, even though he knew how much trouble they would be in when they returned home, he also knew that everything was finally going to be alright. That maybe all of this had been for something. Though it had been hard and painful, they were tangled in each other like they were always supposed to be.

Her hair was sprawled across the pillow, all wild curls like when they had been teenagers. Like when they had to sneak around, feeling things they could never acknowledge.

And ten years later, they were still like that. But now, they could finally be public, even if it would cause consequences. This time, it was consequences they were at last mature enough to face.

"We have to go home soon."

Her tone was wistful, and her pulled her closer, smelling her perfumed hair.

"We can stay for a little while longer," he replied.

"The longer we stay..."

"I know," Chuck answered. "But someday I'm going to make it right."

"Nothing feels wrong about this," Blair said quietly.

"Your mother would disagree."

"Chuck," Blair chastised gently but that was because they both knew the reality of it.

"There's a reason we're in Italy and not New York," he reminded her.

"I'm glad," she said. "I like being alone here with you."

"We have to go home soon."

"Let's stay a little while longer," she answered. She liked the way his fingers traced circles lightly on her bare shoulder. He kissed her and she could feel his smirk molding against her lips.

"I'm going to make it right," he finally said. "You're going to get the proper society wedding you deserve."

Blair followed his gaze, towards her white, silk dress that was still pooled in the middle of the room.

"I liked this one," she answered, twirling the ring around her fourth finger. "Whether it was in Tuscany or New York."

"Your mother would never have allowed it," Chuck answered. "You know that."

"I liked this one," she repeated, slowly sinking into his warm embrace. "I feel like I can breathe now."

"I've wanted to marry you since I was nineteen," he said.

"I wanted to say yes," she replied.

* * *

"And you can tell me that you love me too, you know. He isn't around anymore."

"I love you too."

* * *

Chuck leaned against the doorway, watching the son of his wife drift off into slumber. He didn't need to confer with Blair to know that it was the first time that Blaine had really gotten any sleep. Chuck remembered that in his grief of his father's passing, how sleep had evaded him. He remembered sitting in a Park Avenue penthouse with a beautiful girl striding in, wearing a white, silk dress.

It had been the first time he had slept in a week.

All with her small body curled around him.

Chuck closed the door quietly behind him, heading to the bedroom. Her form was petite, breathing evenly in her own slumber. Chuck crawled in next to her, surrounding her with his arms. She stirred soundly, turning in his arms with a sigh.

"I missed you."

He smiled to himself, kissing her deeply.

They both settled into the covers, her breathing starting to lull him to sleep.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Everything is perfect."

He trailed his hand up her collarbone to feel the familiar chain beneath his fingers. He felt her fingers interlock with his, and for the first time in four years, he found that he was also able to find sleep, relieved that he had his family with him.

_The End_


End file.
